Girl On Fire
by AliciaMo
Summary: Following the death of her most beloved sister, Elizabeth moves to the Big Apple to try to break into the Music Industry. Mr. Darcy, of Darcy Records, initially thinks she has little talent, too much weight and is too old to make it in his world. It doesn't take long, though, for his opinion to undergo a dramatic change. M chapters start in Chapter 8.
1. Chapter 1

I have been working on this story for a few years and it is almost complete - somehow Chapter 11s always get me stuck. I have finally decided to make it public for comments at my dear Fibby's suggestion. I am still working on The Jane Plan, but thought I would also post a modern story in tandem with the regency one. I hope you enjoy!

Sian - Thanks for all of your help, it is much appreciated!

 **Girl on Fire**

 **Chapter 1: Stop Looking In Mirrors**

" _There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors."_

 _Tennessee Williams_

Standing under the bright lights, the crowd greeted Elizabeth like a long lost friend. Their acceptance electrified her, never failed to transform her. On stage, she wasn't some overweight, frumpy woman who was too old to be chasing an unlikely dream. No, here, in front of her fans, she was someone interesting, desirable and talented. Smiling warmly at the gathered patrons, her gaze naturally fell to the tables nearest to the stage and her hand froze adjusting her microphone.

For one hopeful moment she thought her mind must be playing tricks on her. It could not be him. This could not be happening. What was he doing here?

His unforgettable blue gaze met hers and she felt her smile falter. Of course, hewas sitting front and center. As if he owned the place. Directly in her line of sight. Elizabeth threw back her shoulders. She would not be cowed by his presence. She would not let him have the satisfaction of having such power over her. She was a professional. She was going to do what she was paid to do. Entertain.

Winking at one of the regulars, Elizabeth launched into a playful song about getting even with a two-timing ex. With each perfectly nailed note, she felt her determination surge. No, William Darcy's presence would not intimidate her. Not today. Not ever again. After she finished her first number, she grinned at the enthusiastic whistles and catcalls.

Oh, yes, she was on fire tonight.

*(*

Elizabeth leaned against the closed door of her dressing room. Her earlier bravery had exhausted her. In hindsight, the only thing she regretted about her performance was that she'd been enjoying herself far too much to dare a look in his direction. She hadn't wanted his reaction to sour such a great performance.

Mentally shaking herself from letting her thoughts drift to him when she should be celebrating another successful night, she took a seat at the dressing table in the small room. Elizabeth began to remove the heavy stage makeup from her face with deliberate motions. She reminded herself that he was only one man. Not everyone shared his opinion. Just look at the audience tonight. They had loved her.

Besides, it wasn't as if Darcy was there to see her. Elizabeth knew she'd been forgotten the minute she left the café. She'd just been one of a long line of performers not good enough to garner his good opinion.

Sliding off heels that pinched her toes, she wondered which one of the other acts he must have come to see. There was the new blonde girl, Rebyka. In her early twenties, she styled herself after Miley Cyrus down to the short hair and nose ring – definitely more new Miley and less old Miley, but she, unfortunately, didn't have anywhere near Hannah Montana's chops. It was a blessing if she made it through one song in tune.

Or, maybe, he'd heard about _The Black Checkers_ who went on the stage right after her. They were an R &B group whose arrangements were strongly reminiscent of 112, and they already had songs played on the air locally. They were Elizabeth's favorite group out of all the other performers. If a group were to get an offer, she hoped it was them. The four brothers were all handsome young African American males who did not have any image problems to worry about whatsoever.

At least, not her sort of image problems.

Stop thinking about him, she ordered herself. Stop letting him get to you!

Easier said than done.

Chewing on her lip, Elizabeth glanced down at herself. What had Darcy actually said that night they met that wasn't true?She was 5'6" and weighed close to 150 lbs – well, she would if she lost those pesky fifteen pounds. She was closing in on thirty, so she was a little older than those traditionally trying to break into the business. She probably wasn't very talented. Only Jane had ever really believed she was.

 _Jane._

She was only here because of her. She'd been made to promise Jane on her deathbed that she would go to New York and try to break into the music industry. Elizabeth could not refuse the request. But then, truthfully, she'd never been able to refuse Jane anything.

After her sister's funeral, Elizabeth hads returned home with the rest of her stunned family and began making travel plans. She had to do something when there was no longer anything left for her to do. Later, she had recognized a part of her was afraid if she didn't attend to the vow promptly, she would either succumb to her own grief or that of her family. She shut her eyes remembering the way her father had looked at her when she said goodbye to him at the Greyhound Station. Traveling alone, she had succumbed to her grief on the bus and cried the entire way to the Big Apple.

The sun was shining when she finally arrived in New York. She exited the bus feeling lighter, reborn. Hopeful. Within days, she found her small studio apartment and then spent the next two frustrating months looking for a job. Just when she'd almost exhausted her meager savings and given into her father's insistent pleading to return home, Elizabeth's luck changed.

Here at _The Hole_.

Glancing around the shabby interior of her dressing room, Elizabeth thought the name was perfect. The establishment was one cavernous, dark room with a bar along the right side, mismatched tables and chair scattered to the left. The stage was center, and the three small dressing rooms were located in the basement two squat flights of stairs below. Above the bar was a cramped one bedroom apartment where the owners lived. It was gritty and real and sad and happy all at once. She'd never found a place so utterly perfect before in her life.

Now, after three months, she could not imagine her life without this home away from home.

Her extended musical family included the co-owners, the artistic and fabulous Malcolm DuRone and his serious bowtie-wearing partner, Phillip Masters and the house band, aptly named _The Hole House._ The band was comprised of a collection of interesting personalities. Max, the bassist who started a few weeks after she had, hailed from Alabama and looked a little like a grungy Keith Urban (pre-Nicole Kidman). Tara, a former pre-school teacher, easily in her forties who was amazing on the guitar. Doty, the best female drummer she had ever heard play who had a fondness of wearing her hair in pigtails and strongly looked like the lead singer of _No Doubt._ Rounding out the group, Ricky was a genius who could play every other instrument and could freestyle bee box better than a human should be able.

Since Malcolm and Phillip were eclectic in their taste of music, the result was that one never quite knew what sort of groups were going to appear each night at _The Hole_. Grunge, jazz, classical, country, hip-hop – all were embraced. It was a melting pot of musical genres. People from every walk of life came in to hear and appreciate the music.

One introduction had ultimately led to her fateful meeting with Darcy. A month earlier after her set, she'd been stopped by a willowy, blonde woman named Georgie as she exited the stage. The woman wanted to buy her a drink. Not all together an uncommon request but one she commonly refused. But, there had been something about the girl. Thinking about it now, it had to have been the similarity between Georgie and Jane that had made her uncharacteristically accept.

Over a drink, Elizabeth learned that Georgie was a senior at NYU studying music theory. The girl had initially stopped in to catch one of the grunge bands that were slated for the middle of the lineup. Typical of most college bands, they'd broken up before they could even play their first set. Each performer at _The Hole_ had to add an extra song to their own set to cover for the unexpected vacancy in the lineup. Elizabeth should not have even been on stage at that time that night - it was fate that placed her there.

Georgie had raved, "Once I heard you sing, I forgot all about being disappointed that _Broken Teeth_ wasn't playing tonight. You're wonderful. Really talented." Who wouldn't want to hear such compliments? Such flattery? "Where are you from? From your accent, you're not a native New Yorker? "

"No, I'm from Ohio."

"Ohio?" The young girl said it as if it were a foreign land. "What made you come here?"

Normally, she would not share her story with a stranger, but Elizabeth felt an affinity for the girl. Perhaps, it was because she reminded her so much of Jane. They had the same build, coloring and soft blue, guileless eyes. Over the next drink, the story of her sister poured forth.

Her new friend's eyes filled with compassion. "That's terrible."

"It was. It is." Elizabeth agreed, toying with her drink. "I'm giving myself one year to make it."

"And what happens when the year is up?"

"I honestly don't know." She shrugged, unconcerned. That was a decision months away. "I guess I'll go home. Return to my old life richer for the experiences and the friends I've made along the way. Either way. What an experience, right?"

"Look, I never do this. Believe me, I don't." Georgie pulled a pen from her purse and wrote a number on her napkin. "I know someone who works at Darcy Records. This is his private line. Tell Maggie, his secretary, that Georgie gave you the number. She'll put you through to him right away. The rest will be up to you."

After assuring Georgie she'd call, her new friend returned to her group. Elizabeth had half believed the whole thing had been a practical joke. Either the singer in _Broken Teeth_ had put Georgie up to it (as pay back for a practical joke involving hot sauce in his toothpaste which Lizzy was still denying any involvement) or it was some sort of sorority initiation prank. However, that slip of paper had been a symbol of hope in a time when she had seriously needed it. Elizabeth had spent days looking at it. What if it were real? What if there really was a Will? It all sounded fantastical to her.

Clearly fed up with the back and forth - 'what ifs' - she and Max were tossing about, Malcolm had taken action. He snatched the napkin from her hand and raced to the phone behind the bar. By the time she had caught up with him, he had placed the call, confirmed that this was indeed someone named Will's number and the woman who answered pointedly asked if there was a message. He had handed the receiver to Elizabeth. Panicked, she'd hung up the phone and then felt too foolish to call back.

Days later, while she was debating if she should call again, Georgie reappeared at the club, dragging a man with her. And, what a man. Elizabeth thought he looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't imagine a time or place that she would've encountered such a man or that she could've forgotten such a meeting. He was, for the lack of a better word, sensational.

She liked the way he filled out his expensive business suit, which was tailor-made to fit his impressive physique. The expression on his face made him looked as though he had just walked out of a board-room after a hostile takeover and had left no survivors. He exuded power, confidence. Georgie was definitely a very lucky woman.

Elizabeth watched as the pair settled at a table near the stage. Unable to resist, she gravitated to them. Georgie noticed her, launched herself forward and linked their arms as if they were best friends, enthusiastically turning to introduce Elizabeth to her companion.

"Lizzy, I'd like to introduce you to my brother, Will."

Brother. Not boyfriend _._ Even better.

"Will, this is the woman I've been telling you about all night. This is Lizzy Bennet."

Politely, Georgie's brother rose. It seemed impossible, but he improved upon closer examination. Standing well over six feet tall, jet black curls crowned his head, and the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow darkened his firm, squared chin. A perfect Greek nose jutted over sensual lips. However, as impressive as his other attributes were, it was his eyes that arrested her. They were a vivid indigo sea of blue. As she stared, Elizabeth felt like she was drowning in them.

He nodded perfunctorily at her before those eyes swept over her face quickly. Folding himself back into his seat, he opened his jacket and turned his head as if seeking something or someone worthy of his interest. Dismissed, Elizabeth felt she had been judged and found to be not worth the effort. It smarted to be so thoroughly rejected by such a man.

"Will's had a long day at work." Georgie gave her a tepid smile, apologizing, "I sort of sprung this on him last minute."

"I do hope you enjoy your night with us." His eyes drifted back to her and she got the distinct impression he rather doubted it. Trying to find a subject of common ground, she said, "Your sister said you work at Darcy Records. What do you do for them?"

At this question, he looked up at sharply, scowling. "What?"

A boisterous laugh escaped Georgie before she covered her mouth with a perfectly manicured hand, "Oh, Lizzy, I forgot you haven't been in New York long. Will's last name," the blonde corrected herself, " _our_ last name is Darcy. Will's the owner of Darcy Records."

William Darcy! Elizabeth's cheeks burned from recognition. She felt every bit the complete and utter idiot. Belatedly, she knew why he'd looked so familiar to her. William Darcy was one of the youngest and most influential music executives in the world. Dear God, if he was William Darcy, that meant that her new friend was Georgiana Darcy who appeared on best dressed lists in _People_ and _In Style_ , a woman her younger sisters had envied and had wanted to dress like since their early teens. She looked to the young blonde in shock.

As if summoned by magic, her friend, Daisy, appeared at the table. Elizabeth's favorite waitress, she wore bright lipstick, laughed a lot and loudly, wore tight daisy dukes and favored tank tops promoting her favorite bands. Tonight, the white tank top bore the face of Kurt Cobain. She'd offered Elizabeth a tight smile before looking directly at Darcy and literally freezing in shock. The man was certainly not their normal clientele.

Daisy recovered and leaned over Darcy practically making Kurt's lips touch his while asking him suggestively if there was anything she could do for him. His reaction did not disappoint. He scooted back in his chair. Once at a safe distance, he ordered a scotch, looked in Elizabeth's direction and changed it to a double scotch, and then for his sister, added a soda.

Seeing Georgie pout, she teased sympathetically, "Being a younger sister sometimes is a trial."

"Oh, do you have an over-protective older brother too?" Georgie almost appeared embarrassed.

"No. An over-protective older sister." Only, that was not true. Not anymore. The pain that stabbed her chest stole made her gasp. How was it possible that she still kept forgetting? Forgetting she was gone!

"Lizzy, are you alright?" Georgie's voice sounded distant, but soothing, just like Jane's. Another wave of loss threatened to swallow her. How she hated these weak moments that sprung up without any warning. Distantly, she heard her friend apply to her brother for assistance.

"Perhaps, you need to sit down." Darcy sounded as if he hoped she would decline.

"Maybe a glass of wine?" Georgie offered, trying to waive down Daisy.

"No, I'm fine. I have to go on soon." Elizabeth took another deep breath, willing the darkness at her periphery to stay back. Keep it at bay. "I'll be alright. It will pass."

Daisy returned to the table, delivered the drinks and asked Darcy if there was anything else she could do for him. Anything, _at all_ , she stressed leaning forward again.

"No." Mr. Politeness stated. "The drink's all I want."

Elizabeth felt a flash of anger towards him, anger that helped her regain her equilibrium. Daisy was a harmless flirt, and there was no need to be rude to her. When their eyes collided over his drink, she saw his were cold, flat and emotionless. He didn't care one iota about some inconsequential waitress' hurt feelings, anymore than he cared about some bar singer's big chance. He was here tonight under protest.

From the stage, Phillip introduced Elizabeth and several fans in the room shouted her name appreciatively. Despite being nervous to have someone with Darcy's credentials in attendance, Elizabeth felt she performed well. That belief was reinforced when, as soon as she left the stage, Georgie came to her dressing room and insisted they should go to the little café around the corner from the club where they could talk. Darcy, who they met back at the table, immediately seconded the suggestion of leaving for a quieter environment.

While not as effervescent as his sister, Darcy was also no longer silent when they were seated at the café. In fact, he dominated most of the conversation. He asked her questions about her singing experience, her musical influences and her contractual obligations with _The Hole_ , as if he were mentally going through a checklist for a job applicant. Keeping up with his rapidly fired inquires gave her unbelievable hope.

After nearly a half hour, Darcy gave up his inquisition, letting his sister carry the rest of their conversation. But, he stared at her. Boldly. While she was no stranger to the appreciation of men, she'd never been so affected by one. It was clear he was an avid appreciator of woman. and she found his focused attention arousing. Even Peter hadn't elicited this kind of response, and she'd agreed to marry him. Elizabeth had never felt quite this way before. Flustered by a man simply glancing in her direction.

Disturbed by the feeling he provoked in her, she turned her attention to her newest biggest fan. Georgie had heaped praise on her and told her quite unnecessarily about her brother's knack to produce stars. To the younger girl, it was clear nothing could be simpler than the paring of such gifted individuals. Darcy was a legend in the industry, a modern day Midas whose company consistently churned out platinum album after platinum album. If he deemed it so, people would dance, fall in love, and find comfort in her words all over the world. Her dream was tantalizingly within her grasp if only he wanted it for her.

After the last two bitter years, it was almost painful to be so close to having something unexpectedly wonderful come true. Elizabeth tried to reign in her hope, but as the evening progressed it kept bubbling up within her. It was like trying to block out sunlight with a butterfly net. She wanted this. She wanted to be successful. Wanted to be a star!

She had excused herself to visit the ladies and upon her return overheard, "Don't pull that face because I don't agree with your assessment of her, Georgie. You know it won't work on me." Even though she wanted to round the corner, she was more interested in what Darcy honestly had to say about her. "I'm sorry. She's far too old, she's pretty run-of-the-mill in the looks department, and she'd definitely need to work closely with a dietician. She needs to lose a good deal of weight. She's not even that talented. Nothing about her screams marketability."

"You're crazy. She's beautiful!" Elizabeth heard her champion huff.

"This is really my fault, Georgie. I've been pushing you to become more interested in our family business, but you really have no experience in assessing talent. Besides her being a nice woman with a sad story, what does she have that would hook an audience?"

"There's something inexplicable about her, Will. It's in her voice and her presence on stage. Her songs. People react to her. Love her. I'm surprised you didn't notice it yourself. You - "

"I'm gonna have to pass. The risk and monetary expenditures to make her performance ready wouldn't be recovered. Let's not argue about this, Georgie. At the end of the day, I wouldn't make money on her."

Elizabeth heard another sigh. "If you pass on her, you'll regret it."

"I assure you I will live quite comfortably with my regret." He paused. "Look, I have a full day tomorrow and we need to wrap this up. I need to leave soon."

"Not before she comes back, Will. Please, for me. It would be unbelievably rude of you."

It was Georgie's defense of her that ultimately gave Elizabeth the strength to paste a smile on her face and regain enough composure to return to the table as if nothing was wrong at all. She was determined to not make a scene that would embarrass the young woman.

After a polite fifteen minutes, Elizabeth thanked them both for the drink and gathered her purse and jacket.

"You sure you won't join us for another?" Darcy asked, leaning forward, "After all, the night is still young." She nearly ground her wisdom teeth wondering if he was making a crack about her age. Hadn't he just said he wanted to wrap things up? She declined his offer coolly.

Obviously, Georgie had not given up because she began to needle her brother to setup a time for her to come in and sing for him. Rather than waste more of her time, Elizabeth said she'd have to consult her calendar to see when she'd be available. Her reluctance to commit had clearly shocked him.

A smile lingered on his lips. She got the distinct impression he had decided it would be fun to toy with her. "Go ahead and check your calendar, Ms. Bennet." He extended his card to her. She took it without any sort of fanfare. "I look forward to hearing from you, Elizabeth."

 _What was the point of calling him?_ She'd already heard his assessment and never cared to hear it again. The call would be an exercise in futility. Without looking at it, she placed his card in her clutch, and when she got home that evening, took great pleasure in shredding it into tiny pieces and feeding them to her wastebasket.

Elizabeth had worked hard to put the whole depressing situation behind her, until his reappearance tonight had ruined her recovery. Looking in the mirror first one way, and then the other, she conceded she wasn't much to look at. Jane had been the beauty of the family. Compared to her sister, she knew she was just rather average looking. Her thick, longer than shoulder-length brown hair curled of its own volition and often in the opposite direction than the one she wished. She thought, perhaps, her eyes were her best feature, more grey than blue. Peter had called them smoky. Her nose was a small scoop, her mouth was perhaps too generous, and her figure was definitely more Beyonce than Taylor Swift. Yes, she was nearing thirty, but _hadn't William heard?_ Thirty was the new twenty.

After applying moisturizer to her face, she picked up her brush and began attacking her hair with vengeful strokes and decided she was going to accept Malcolm and Phillip's offer to have a nightcap when the bar closed. After seeing him, Elizabeth definitely needed a drink. A generous one. In retrospect, she was grateful that she hadn't shared the entire story with her fellas of the meeting with the Darcys. When they asked her, she'd simply shrugged, stating that she wasn't what the label was looking for.

Satisfied with the result of the vigorous brushing and the turn of her thoughts, Elizabeth pulled her hair back into a simple bun. Then, she began to gather her makeup. She hated clutter and the chore killed some time. They'd be closing soon and she decided to remain in her dressing room avoiding Mr. Darcy until they did. She began humming _Baby Got Back_ , hung up her dress, zipped closed the garment bag and proceeded to pull on her after performance sweats. She was so immersed in her normal routine, the knock on her door confused her at first. There was still a half hour before the club closed and she could hear _The Checkers_ winding their way through their set above her.

"Lizzy."At Malcolm's familiar voice, she exhaled the breath she was unconsciously holding. "Are you decent, girl?"

"Since when have you ever cared about decency?" Elizabeth swung the door open and felt her face freeze as she saw Malcolm was not alone. A fleeting feeling of hysteria flowed through her as the very man she was hiding from stood before her. His face was impassive, indicating neither joy nor frustration at seeing her again. A blank slate.

Did he even remember her?

"Sweetness, this man just had to see you." Malcolm was enjoying what he thought was a meeting between her and one of her admirers. "I told him that I normally don't bring men down into the dressing rooms to see you, even though loads have asked." Her friend's confidence in her appeal was comical and absolutely wasted on her current company. "But, honey, I knew you'd want me to make an exception for him." He looked Darcy up and down and mouthed to her, ' _Cause, he is so fine_." Malcolm waved the bright pink boa he insisted on wearing in the club, clearly enthused by her visitor's physique.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes in exasperation, Elizabeth nodded a brief greeting at the statue before her.

Glancing curiously back and forth between them, Malcolm added, "Now, don't mind me, hot cakes, you just go on in and talk to our Lizzy. I'll give you some privacy."

Darcy strode quickly into the room, deftly avoiding what would have been a pat on the behind from Malcolm, who simply winked at her before pulling the door shut, granting them a private audience.

The dressing room was not large, but with his presence, the room seemed to shrink further in on itself. Not sure what to do with her unwanted guest, Elizabeth indicated with a wave of her hand that he could take a seat in the small armchair to the left of the dressing table. After warily eyeing the worn chair, and then the roses sent by one of her admirers, Darcy sat gingerly and draped the jacket he carried limply over his lap. Silence engulfed the room, and she retook her spot at the dressing table, unsure of what to do next.

"Would you care for a drink?" She finally asked, politeness winning out over annoyance.

"No." He seemed to be inventorying the cramped space. When his eyes lit upon the picture of Elizabeth and her sister, he searched her face, "Your sister?"

"Yes, that's Jane."

The photo had been taken on one of the last good days of her sister's life. Laughing at the camera, Jane was wearing one of those bright scarves she loved to wear. Her sister's head had once been covered in thick hair the color of spun gold before the chemo had taken it away. With her fingers, she traced the smiling face so dear to her. She felt the welling in her eyes and put the frame down before she burst into tears. She would not cry in front of such an unfeeling man.

"Georgiana told me about her. I'm sorry for your loss." His sympathy was both unexpected and confusing. Silence descended between them again. Looking as if he had come to a decision, he cleared his throat, "You never called me about the demo."

"No, I didn't." Elizabeth applied a touch of lip gloss and matted the excess with a tissue. "Look if it makes it easier, you can tell Georgie you asked, and I said thanks but no thanks."

"This isn't an offer to do a full album, you understand. I'll have you record one song and let you know. You understand that Darcy Records doesn't offer a record deal to virtual unknowns without – " He stopped mid-sentence, her words finally registering and cutting off what was probably a much practiced speech. "Excuse me. Did you just say 'thanks but no thanks'?"

She took her time to replace the lid to her gloss before turning to him. "I did."

Darcy looked a little like someone had told him that gravity didn't exist. "You couldn't have signed with another label already."

"No," she shared a private smile with her reflection, "There doesn't seem to be much of a market for someone like me."

"Forgive me, but this doesn't make any sense." He stood up and paced as much as the small room allowed. He must have decided that she hadn't meant what she said because he continued. "I agree that perhaps one song wouldn't really be enough to fully showcase your talent." She swiveled to follow him going back and forth between the chair and the door. _Was he joking or being deliberately mean?_ He sat back down, nodding to himself, "Two songs. Then, I'll decide if you have something. If I like what I hear, I'll arrange for you to come in to record a full album." She noted he was not talking to her. It was like he was having a conversation entirely with himself, and her acceptance was simply assumed. He looked around with evident disapproval. "Of course, if I like what I hear, you'll need to put in a lot of work. You'll stop singing here in this abysmal place immediately."

His insult to _The Hole_ was the final straw.

Elizabeth desperately wishing she'd kept her dress on from her performance. It was hard to be confidently aloof in sweats and bare feet. She reached up undoing the bun in her hair, shaking her head so that her locks fell loose around her shoulders. That was better. Letting her hair down helped bolster her. Her gaze found his, and she said firmly, "I'm really not interested."

"You're not interested?" His voice sounded rusty as his hands were strangling his overcoat. His color was high and she briefly wondered if he suffered from high blood pressure. She was about to mention that he might want to have it checked, when he added, "If you think this tactic of playing hard to get is going to make me more likely to throw resources behind you, you are sadly mistaken. Some drastic changes will need to be made if I choose to spend my time on you." He gestured at her. "Maybe we could do four songs. Several that you did tonight were promising, but nothing more until we test the waters and I see if it is feasible to invest my resources in you."

"As I said before, Mr. Darcy, I'm not interested in your resources or in your offer." Elizabeth stood up. Ever mindful of her manners, she smiled sweetly as she opened the door for him. He was slow to his feet. "All things considered I'm sure you've made me a fair offer. More than fair. But, believe me when I tell you Mr. Darcy, we really would not suit artistically."

"Suit artistically?" His lips twisted into an angry smile. His laser like gaze cut across her dressing room before settling once more on her. "Coming here has been nothing but a complete waste of my time."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

From the way his eyes flared, she knew he sensed her sarcasm. He slid on his coat and stomped past her, stopping suddenly in the narrow doorway without facing her. "If I leave, Ms. Bennet, I'll not be coming back. You have to know that you'll never get another offer like the one I just gave you."

"I assure you I will live quite comfortably with my regret." Elizabeth knew the instant the words were out of her mouth that she'd made a grave mistake. Intelligence quickly spread over his face when he turned to her.

"Eavesdropping is not an attractive quality." He seemed to blame her for his comments. Then, he shrugged into his coat, saying, "However, my statements are as accurate today as they were that night in the café. You are older than most acts coming into this business. You can tell that yourself - just look at all the other acts here! Your talent is raw, undisciplined. And, as far as your weight - " His gaze dropped over her before it locked with hers again. There was absolutely no spark of interest in their icy depths. She felt completely undesirable. "You could stand to lose a good deal. This is the music industry. Public opinion is both brutal and cruel. You'll need to develop a much thicker skin to survive this business. There is no room for your vanity."

"My vanity?" Her temper flared. Ice would have a better chance in hell than he had breathing if he remained. She warned him, "I think you've managed to insult me in every possible way, Mr. Darcy. So, if you are quite through, I think you should leave. You could not have offered me a recording contract in any possible way to make me want to sign with you."

Darcy turned but then stopped her from shutting the door with a well placed hand. If it had been anyone else, she would've thought he felt remorse over his comments. Once again, those devastating blue eyes searched hers. "Whatever you must think of me, I do wish you good luck in your future endeavors."

For the second time in her life, Elizabeth was grateful to see the fabulous backside of William Darcy.

12


	2. Chapter 2

**This Girl Is On Fire**

 **Chapter 2 - Not Everything's Perfect**

Not everything's perfect, especially in the beginning. ― Sarah Dessen, _Lock and Key_

Slamming the door to his penthouse, Darcy headed straight for his bar. After pouring a healthy double scotch, he tossed it back quickly. He felt rattled. Rarely had he let his temper get the better of him, but he had this evening. What had the woman expected him to do when she put him on the spot? Lie? Apologize? _For what_? For simply telling the truth?

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. If she couldn't learn to take constructive criticism and take it in stride, the industry would tear her apart. The public was notoriously cruel. Paparazzi stalked the famous just waiting for a slip up. How many times had he watched stronger, more experienced singers crash and burn or turn to destructive crutches to deal with the evil side of fame?

Elizabeth Bennet was just a naive woman with a pair of incredibly innocent eyes.

She'd be eaten alive.

Well if she was, it wouldn't be his problem!

Serving himself another splash of scotch, Darcy reflected that this night should've never had happened. _What had he been thinking, going to that dive not once but twice?_ He was above such things. He should've sent Richard to waste **his** time.

Irrationally, Darcy blamed her.

After all, Elizabeth should have called him as expected. He would've made an appointment for her at the studio. At the very least, she would have a keepsake and a story to tell her friends. Darcy had even considered, _only as a favor to his sister_ , stopping in personally at the studio to hear how she sounded, maybe give her pointers. Normally, he left such things up to the studio manager.

As the days passed after their initial meeting, her silence confounded him. Grated on him. Nagged. Distracted. Usually, if he gave a woman his card, they wouldn't wait a day before calling him. Most couldn't wait an hour. But, Elizabeth had waited. It had been over a week, and not one single phone call. In fact, he was quite certain Maggie, his personal assistant, had thought he'd quite lost his mind when he asked several times a day if there was any messages from her. At least now he knew why she hadn't made contact.

 _Yes, mystery solved. Well done, Will._

Instead of pouring himself another drink, which he desperately wanted, Darcy put his glass in the sink and headed for his bedroom. He was too keyed up to sleep. Wound up. He considered and rejected calling several women who he knew might help him with his current problem knowing he had an early day on the morrow. Meetings completely dominated his schedule, and he needed a clear head. Selecting random on his iPod, John Mayer's iconic blues came through the speaker system.

Moving to his bedroom and slipping out of his clothes, Darcy acknowledged he felt guilty and embarrassed. Unfamiliar territory for him. What had she expected eavesdropping? No one ever heard positive things when they did. Didn't she know that?

And, what did she mean rejecting him? It rankled that she did it with the certainty of someone who received offers every day. _Thanks, but no thanks!_ She'd never in her life receive a better proposition. She was too inexperienced to even know that! The woman had no business in the music business. She was out of her league, out of her depths.

As he showered, Darcy scrubbed his body with more enthusiasm than necessary, trying to wipe out the lingering memory of his visit to _The Hole_ and the frustrating Elizabeth Bennet.

" _I think you've managed to insult me in every possible way. So, if you are quite through, I think_ _you should leave."_

Toweling off, Darcy told himself that she should've thanked him for his free advice. Wasn't it better she learned now what the business was truly like?It was purely about dollars and cents. No one in his position could survive long without fiscal responsibility. With singers, it was about packaging. Plain and Simple. Would the public buy her? No, she would not be universally accepted the ways he was. Though, he had to admit after seeing her a second time, he could no longer remember exactly on what his initial assessment had been based. It was a damn shame the woman allowed her vanity to interfere with what might have been a profitable partnership. She was clearly a fool! Lord knew he already had enough of them on payroll.

As he brushed his teeth, he reminded himself, he didn't need her. He was William Darcy of Darcy Records.He rinsed and wiped his mouth. Everyone in New York seemed to be a singer or an actress or both, and they all seemed to want something. Just this week, he'd been propositioned by numerous women, all younger than Ms. Bennet, all with perfect figures and perfect voices who would've taken his criticism and his offer and thanked him.

Some would have been rather demonstrative in thanking him! He frowned. This evening would had definitely ended quite differently if she had expressed her gratitude in the usual way. An imagine of Elizabeth swam before him. One where she was letting her hair down before winding her hands around his neck pulling him low for a kiss. He shook his head to clear it. He refused to dwell on how soft her full, pillowy lips would likely feel under his.

Clearly, he needed to get laid. It had been too long since he had sank himself fully into a woman. Nearly two weeks. Perhaps, he would call Sarah or Meagan. _Or, both_. After all, they did impress on him that they did like to share. Grinning, he replaced the towel at his waist with clean pajama bottoms. The delightful image of him being pleasured by two women at the same time gave way to one of Elizabeth glaring at him in her dressing room.

 _It was her loss._

Look what he had done for that jack nab Justin. Elizabeth had infinitely more talent in one eyelash than the English twit, Salvadore. He had just gone double platinum. Irritated that his favorite music was not giving him the solace it usually did, he slapped off the dock. Just thinking about the music they could have made together made him surely.

Darcy turned off the lamp on his nightstand. He was lucky to have escaped an association with her. If he had signed her to a contract, it would've been exhausting to keep comforting her each and every time someone insulted her or hurt her tender feelings. He was a busy man with a demanding schedule. He didn't have that kind of free time to devote to one needy artist. Even if that needy artist had eyes that could pierce your soul.

He groaned as his mind conjured her up before him. Her brown curls swinging freely and those bedroom eyes. Screwing his eyes shut tightly, Darcy rolled on his side willing sleep to catch up with him.

But, he soon found, in the quiet of his bedroom, in the darkness of the night, there was no escape. The radio in his mind auto tuned to her. As it had with increasing frequency since their fateful introduction, he heard the soft velvet of Elizabeth Bennet's voice caress his mind. Her smiling image from the stage now joined that voice. A strangely delightful marriage of sound and vision. Punching a pillow, he tried to get comfortable but no matter what he tried, the memory of her would not release him from its cloying grasp.

Darcy's resistance lasted a week before he returned to _The Hole_ for a third time.

A short, bald African American man with a bow tie took the money he held out for the cover charge. The man looked up at him, and for one paranoid moment, Darcy wondered if he was going to be denied admission to the establishment. After hesitating briefly, the man stamped his hand, and he was ushered inside with all the other patrons.

Instead of sitting up close as he had on his previous two visits, he selected a seat in the back far corner where the dim lighting would better conceal his presence. Never in his life had Darcy resorted to skulking in shadows. After being use to VIP treatment his entire life, he felt the degradation of this hiding keenly.

The cocktail waitress stopped by his table. She clearly recognized him. "I see you came back, handsome."

He noted the badge she wore on her Metallica shirt. "Yes, Daisy," she smiled at his use of her name, "I find I really like the drinks."

"Double scotch, right?"

At his nod, she squeezed between two closely packed tables to retrieve his order from the bar. A quick glance confirmed the club was better attended than on his previous visits. Unfortunately, the lineup had not improved. It was real punishment to sit impatiently through two unremarkable acts. For a man who was never kept waiting, it seemed unbearable. To pass the time, he dealt with some emails and sent last minute instructions to Maggie.

Done with what he could accomplish, he reflected on the first time he had come to _The Hole_. He'd been in mind-numbing meetings most of that day and had looked forward to a quiet dinner with his sister. Unusually insistent, Georgiana introduced the subject of Elizabeth Bennet and would not let the idea of seeing her go. They had to go that very evening. Right then. Nothing would discourage her. She'd been so excited to introduce him to the woman that she was convinced would be his next big star. Never had he been able to deny Georgie what she most desired so he'd caved in the face of her enthusiasm.

But as they drove to the bar, his annoyance quickly fanned into anger when Georgiana shared with him the story about Jane. His first thought was this Elizabeth Bennet must've done her homework. Her beloved sister having cancer and her dying wish was for her to go to New York and chase her dream of a music career? It was a little too over the top, like the plot of one of those horribly cliché Lifetime movies. Knowing that his sweet sister had practically eaten it up with a spoon and that someone was using such a story to prey upon her tender heart made him see red. He'd nearly lost Georgie, and she was now only in remission. How had this woman even learned of it?

Anger morphed into rage when he finally arrived at _The Hole_. That his sister had been traveling with her friends to a bar like this without security made him livid. After going through so many unpleasant emotions in such quick secession, he'd arrived in a state disinclined to enjoy anyone or anything he saw. In such a mood, the woman could have looked like Elin Nordegren and sung like Whitney Houston and he would have found flaws.

Really, he'd only begun to thaw when they'd gone to the café right before he was going to leave. After Elizabeth returned from freshening her makeup, she had laughed at something his sister had said. The sound of it resonated with him. Darcy had just denounced the woman to his little sister, but suddenly there was a vibrancy to her. When she met his gaze fully for the first time all evening, he noticed her eyes. Laughing, teasing eyes. Even though he had just told his sister he had to leave, he found himself lingering. If he were being honest with himself, he'd even felt a momentary twinge of disappointment when Elizabeth refused his offer of a second drink.

When she had not called him, Darcy had returned a second time to _The Hole_ to give Elizabeth a fair assessment not clouded by anger and annoyance. Within the dying notes of her first song, he knew that his sister's instincts were correct. How had he not noticed on that first night how magical she was on stage? How she held her audience in her thrall? The emotion that played out across her face - delight, sorrow, happiness. She was a sensational performer. She climbed into a song, wore it, wrung it out. He agreed with Georgie. If he didn't sign Elizabeth to a contract soon, someone else would stumble across her, and he'd regret letting her slip through his fingers. When her set was finished, he had to remind himself to play it cool - he couldn't let her know how desperately he wanted her for his label.

He was roused from his memories of that second disastrous trip when the bass player announced, "And now back to _The Hole's_ stage, Elizabeth Bennet. Everyone make her feel welcome, and let her know how much you've missed her." The applause for her was generous.

Elizabeth took the stage looking as if she knew a secret no one else in the room knew. She was as he remembered, but different at the same time. _More._ Her costume tonight was the same plain blue dress she'd worn the night they'd met. A dress, which he would have sworn was unflattering, seemed anything but now. It clung possessively to her curves — her large breasts, round hips, and a generous bottom— a womanly shape that had never previously attracted him. He'd always preferred slender, fit, athletic women.

Really, his eyes slowly traced her body, she wasn't that heavy. Yes, she could stand to lose weight. Though, not as much as he originally thought. She was all sultry playfulness and lush feminine bounty. He found he was disappointed to see that her brown curls were tightly imprisoned in a severe updo. Those marvelous curls had surprised him when she released them from that ridiculous twist in her dressing room. The air had simply evaporated from his lungs. Her hair was lovely, wild.

The three brunettes he had taken out since his last visit had not satisfied whatever this urge was inside of him. They had each been glorious - small bones, small breasted Venuses but taking pleasure in their flesh had not satisfied him for long.

He picked up his cell phone and quickly sent an email to Suzzanne Valentine, one of the personal stylists whose consulting services he used occasionally, to ask about her availability. He let her know that he had a very special project and he would like her personal assistance. Yes, Suzzanne would know what would work best highlight Elizabeth's attributes.

When the first note of her voice reached him, all thoughts of business or anything else were swept from his mind. His attention auto-focused on her. Half way through her rendition of _Red Light Special_ , Darcy had to loosen his tie and undo the top button of his dress shirt. The air conditioning in the dump must have failed because it felt as if the temperature in the bar had risen fifteen degrees.

When a man in the crowd near the stage catcalled out to her and Elizabeth playfully shimmied, Darcy was not amused. It was an amateur's move. She'd have to be trained to deal with the audience's enthusiasm; it could be dangerous to encourage the wrong sort of man. There were several more rowdy comments from some of the other appreciative men in the audience. He brushed imaginary lint from his sleeve, reminding himself for the tenth time why he hated these low life establishments.

Really, could they not just shut up and let everyone enjoy her song?

As she spoke cheerfully to the crowd while the band swapped out instruments and set up for her next song, he admitted her face was not classically beautiful. She had good bone structure though, a fantastic smile and those expressive eyes. And, there was something more. Her welcoming and inviting presence just drew you in — no, he corrected himself — it damn near hypnotized. As many artists he saw perform, he'd never seen anyone like her. She was special.

Tonight _,_ if she wanted, Elizabeth could sell ice cubes to an Eskimo.

But, none of these startling epiphanies mattered.

She had begun to sing again and he shut his eyes to concentrate. It was that voice. It had been clawing around his mind, haunting his every quiet moment. It was what had brought him to heel, made him crawl back here as if she were a mythical siren. It was quite unforgettable. Something deep within him snapped awake at the mere whisper of it.

Her next song was new. Newly written by her, she had informed the crowd, with that inviting but shy smile of hers. She hoped they would like it. Darcy never had a doubt. As talented as she was vocally, it was a pleasant bonus to find she was an equally gifted songwriter. Listening with a critical ear, he admitted that her arrangements were a tad bit sophomoric. But, Dear Lord, there was a solid foundation. Her talent was impossible to deny. Her lyrics were smart, playful, surprising. Good bones, his mother would have said. What could he do with them? With her? An ache of longing settled within him. What sweet music they could make together!

Her final song, of her too short set, was an original too, but from the reaction of those around him, clearly was one she had sung for them before. The women at the table next to him were singing the chorus with her. It was a song written about losing a loved one. Had it been written for her sister? Some man? Darcy found suddenly a burning desire to know.

Then, it was over. She said goodbye to the audience, who clearly felt the same way he did. They were not ready to release her. Following her retreat through the curtain that separated the stage from the stairs to the dressing rooms with his eyes, he knew it would be a simple thing to ask to speak with her again. Instinctively, he glanced around for the man with the boa who had helped him previously, and the sudden surge of desire to be in her presence again was fierce. The startling intensity of it was what brought him back to reality.

 _What the hell was he doing? Chasing after an artist? Had he lost his mind completely?_ Coming here was bad enough. Speaking to her again was out of the question. He quickly left before he acted on the strong compulsion to talk to her again.

In his opinion, he decided two nights later on his fourth visit, the business model at _The Hole_ was entirely wrong. As their best performer, Elizabeth's set should be expanded. The audience had to suffer far too long with other singers who couldn't hold a candle to her. Daisy saw him, brought him his drink without his asking, took his money and her generous tip, and left him to enjoy his solitude.

Elizabeth's performance brought minimal relief. The gnawing impatience he felt as soon as she finished her set was intolerable. He was not alone. There was grumbling from the masses — _it was not his imagination_ —demanding an encore. It seemed louder tonight than previously and as Darcy took in the congregation, he noted that it was twice as crowded as the night Georgie had first brought him.

Blushing at the overwhelming response, Elizabeth laughed at the idea of remaining with them. Darcy stood, unsatisfied and disgusted, and left the club before the next act even had time to setup.

The following week, business out of town kept him away from _The Hole_ geography, but Elizabeth performed graphically and tantalizing out of reach every night in his dreams. The night he returned to New York, Darcy instructed Sal, his driver, to take him straight from the airport to the bar feeling like an addict who needed a fix. He needed to hear the real Elizabeth perform.

When they pulled up, the street was strangely deserted. The building was quiet and secured. Closed, said the sign in bright mocking letters, every Sunday and Monday. As he cursed at the large doors, another sign caught his eye which indicated that _The Hole_ now could be followed on Facebook and Twitter.

 _Oh, Good God!_

As Sal drove him back uptown to his penthouse, Darcy accessed both websites with his cell. There were no videos of Elizabeth and frustrating little biographical information about her at either site, but there were several photos of her. Pictures of her performing on stage, several others post performance with the band and a few with people he assumed were fans. He paused on one taken in her dressing room where she stood like a goddess in a sea of roses from her admiring public. There were hundreds of comments. Some were complimentary, but he was dismayed to read some of the comments which bordered on lewd. If the webmaster for _The Hole_ couldn't be bothered to monitor their own website for such things, why even put up a comment sections?

By Tuesday, his taciturn behavior could not be ignored. Nothing pleased him. His cousin, Richard, who served as his senior legal counsel, suggested Darcy might need to get laid. Maggie had actually threatened to retire if he did not change his attitude toward her. Georgie did not seem to want to talk with him on the phone. So caustic was his behavior, his best friend, Charles Bingley hinted that he might need to seek some sort of psychological help.

Sex hadn't helped to purge the woman either. And, he had tried. He had exhausted his normal playbook. Usually he could work out any frustration within the soft folds of a woman's body, but no matter how many women he took to bed it did not work. The only thing that staved off this growing feeling within him was to be in her presence, hear her sing. The animal inside of him was soothed entirely, bewitched by her voice.

When he arrived at _The Hole_ after the week's separation, the line was so long he actually feared he might not be admitted—there were occupancy laws, after all. This time when Darcy reached the door, the man with the boa was taking the cover and there could be no question that he was recognized by the sting he felt when his hand was stamped with more enthusiasm than necessary. Rubbing the injury, he took his familiar spot in Daisy's section against the far wall. She waved cheerfully from the bar, and he gave her a salute back before checking his watch. Relaxing, Elizabeth should be going on in fifteen or twenty minutes.

Killing time by working, Darcy responded to a few last minute details and didn't look up when the drink was delivered. As usual, his money was on the table to avoid any unnecessary interaction with the waitress. A male throat cleared, and Darcy glanced up absently. Instead of Daisy, he met the eyes of a distinctly unhappy man he recognized from _The Hole_ 's Facebook page as the owner. This was Phillip Masters, and the boa wearing man outside was his boyfriend, Malcolm DuRone. Clearly, Mr. Masters was no more of a fan of his than his partner.

The man leaned down close to his ear, "Mr. Darcy, with all due respect, you'll need to be getting your drinks somewhere else after tonight." He looked over his shoulder, where two large imposing men stood.

Nodding his understanding, because what else could he do, Darcy picked up his drink. As they left his table, he glanced about hotly until his eyes landed on Malcolm. The man flipped him a middle finger before flouncing back out the front door. He was infuriated and insulted. Didn't they know he could buy and sell them both a hundred times over? He could snub _The Hole_ out of existence like a discarded cigarette? The owner had called him Mr. Darcy but did he know who he was really?For one brief moment, he considered leaving. But then Elizabeth was announced, and the urge to leave evaporated. He could bear this slight to his pride. He'd gone too long without seeing her.

Tonight, Elizabeth wore tight black jeans, a matching leather bomber and an emerald green blouse that did not seem to have enough buttons done up to suit him. Her tousled mane was loose, waving past her shoulders to rest half way down her back.

As usual, her set was over far too soon for his liking. Someone in the audience yelled out for an encore. The call rippled across the audience, louder tonight than on his previous visits. As Elizabeth uncharacteristically hesitated, looking toward the bar, hope rose in him.

He saw Mr. Masters give her the thumbs up. Climbing up on a high back stool brought up to the stage by one of the hands, she crossed her legs, settling herself. A bass materialized in her hands while one of the band members adjusted a microphone stand in front of her.

Her voice was like velvet as she chatted up her audience. "This is one of my all-time favorite songs. I just learned it this week with Max's help. I hope you enjoy it half as much as I enjoyed learning to play it for you." Darcy did not like the naughty smile she gave the musician next to her. " _Supermassive Black Hole_ by Muse."

The bassist began a soft countdown for them, and they started the distinctive riffs of the song, two dueling basses in perfect time. At first, when she started singing, Darcy wasn't sure he liked the song choice. The genre was so far from what she had performed in the past. He looked to the audience to see their collective reaction—heads were bouncing, arms waived in the front, others were clapping in time with the music, and several were singing along with her. Presence. This was not contrived or scripted, but true energy and creativity.

As if he had needed any further convincing Elizabeth was the real deal, she flubbed the bass solo in the middle of the song. Instead of falling apart, she scrunched up her nose, laughed and recovered her rhythm, all while nailing her vocals. Usually a perfectionist, Darcy was even that much more surprised to find himself utterly charmed by her reaction to her mistake.

When _Supermassive_ concluded abruptly, the audience immediately begged her for another. But she was not to be persuaded and left the stage as usual. As he stood to leave, Darcy knew he wanted more.

He simply had to have more of the enchanting Ms. Bennet.

Unfortunately, now there was only one way to get that. It was painfully clear that he would have to swallow his pride and resort to the one thing he never did. Beg.

9


	3. Chapter 3

**This Girl Is On Fire**

 **CHAPTER 3 Play The Game**

"Don't play his game. Play yours." ― Rachel Caine, _Fall of Night_

After _The Hole_ closed and the last of the lingering patrons finally left, Elizabeth looked forward to unwinding with a nightcap with her favorite couple. Malcolm and Phillip were like the big brothers she never had. Like the Odd Couple, Malcolm was Oscar to Phillip's Felix. They were as different as night and day, but their devotion was evident in the simple everyday things they did for one another. Their love was undeniable.

"Baby, you were awesome!" Elizabeth overheard Malcolm tell Phillip as she approached the bar. "The guy looked like he was going to crap his pants!"

"That's only because Jessie and Paul were with me."

Elizabeth was intrigued. If it took both Paul and Jessie, each intimidating enough on his own, this was probably going to be a good story. Then again, there were always good stories to be had at _The Hole_. Some guy got too friendly with Daisy, or she too friendly with them, or someone passed out in the bathroom or something even racier occurred in the alleyway.

Gratefully, she accepted her gin and tonic from Phillip. "What guy?"

"The Adonis that made you cry in your dressing room last month." Malcolm offered.

Elizabeth covered her surprise quickly. She was positive Darcy would never set foot in this bar again; he clearly had better things to do with his time.

She'd be lying if she didn't admit the music executive's criticisms had done their damage when he told them to her point blank in her dressing room. It'd taken nearly a week of cajoling before she'd regained enough confidence to retake the stage. After working through her insecurities, Elizabeth had felt lighter. So what if Mr. Darcy didn't believe in her? Her friends did and they supported her even crazier creative ideas.

Like tonight. She'd taken a risk with _Super Massive_. She'd flubbed her performance, but the crowd had been so into it with her, it hadn't really mattered. Max was right. No risk, no reward. Making a mistake on stage occasionally was not going to ruin her unless she let it. It was an important lesson. And now her joyous high from her performance was in danger of being stolen by the odious Mr. Darcy. Again.

"He was here tonight?"

"Oh, it was definitely him. That man is one fine piece of —" Malcolm paused looking quickly at Phillip before he waved the end of his boa. "Well, you know how he looks. You saw him."

Phillip stuck his tongue out and refilled her drink with more gin than tonic before Malcolm continued, "Anyway, Mr. Dark and Handsome Heartbreaker was sitting at the table over in the corner." He pointed with the neck of his beer bottle to the table far from the stage. "Daisy told me that he's been coming here for weeks. Always the same spot. Always alone."

"Weeks? Are you sure?" Elizabeth turned to look at the seat indicated as if she would catch the ghost of Mr. Darcy still sitting there. She could not quite believe it.

"Oh, yes!" Phillip said wiping the mahogany bar to a shine. "I've personally taken his money many times, but I didn't realize he was _that_ _guy_ until Malcolm pointed him out tonight. You don't have to worry about him coming back." Phillip put his arm around her shoulders. "He'll either take my hint and stay away, or I'll drop his stalker ass."

"Or rather, Jessie and Paul will." She teased knowing her friend's proclivity for violence was all a ruse. Phillip couldn't stomach killing a spider and used humane traps for the mice that snuck into the bar's storage rooms occasionally during the winter months. There was no way he was going to start his pugilistic career with William Darcy. "Did he say why he was here?"

"He told Daisy he came for the drinks." Malcolm pursed his thin lips together, leaning on the bar. "But, please? Who'd come all the way here for this watered down swill? Methinks something of the feminine persuasion has him keep coming back."

Phillip threw his bar rag over his shoulder, his expression somber, even with Malcolm's joking. "Every time it's the same. He arrives shortly before you go on, then leaves as soon as your set is finished. I noticed that myself last week and was going to point him out to you. To be sure, after finding out who he was, I watched him tonight. He spent most of his time texting on his cell phone, but as soon as you go on, his attention is only on the stage."

"That's odd." She shook her head. "Trust me he couldn't possibly be here to see me. This is the guy who thinks I'm too old, too fat and not talented enough to interest him." Still, there had to be an explanation for his continued patronage.

"Sugar, you must got something he wants." Malcolm swiveled his hips suggestively, swinging his purple boa that matched his lilac eye shadow perfectly. "Because he couldn't take those baby blues of his off of you tonight."

"Maybe he just didn't know what he wanted until he thought about it some," Phillip offered shrugging, drying his hand on the rag on his shoulder. At her puzzled look, he added, "Take it from me, men sometimes can be like that. It takes a minute for their brain to catch up with the rest of them."

Malcolm deposited his empty beer bottle in the recycling bin under the bar. "Phillip could be right. After telling his sister all the reasons why he shouldn't offer you a demo, he did come back a second time and made you an offer anyway."

"I bet Georgiana wouldn't let him have any peace until he told her he did. She seems like the determined sort." Elizabeth selected a few peanuts out of the bowl in front of her before tossing them expertly into her mouth. "Though, I can't explain why he keeps coming back by himself." She considered that she might be wrong, but then remembered the disinterest in his eyes during his last visit after he had looked her over long and hard in her dressing room. She wiped the salt from her hands on a napkin. "No. If there is a man alive who is immune to what I'm offering, it's definitely William Darcy."

"Speaking of men and what you're offering, Max seems quite smitten with you." Phillip added wiping the bar down again.

Max was a great guy, cute in a dirty-blonde sort of way, and an extremely talented musician, but there had been literally no _umph_ in the good night kiss they'd shared after their only real date nearly a month ago. After Peter and then losing Jane, could she have lost the one part of her that could permit herself to love another? She'd begun to fear that she was broken deep down in some unfixable, fundamental way.

When Elizabeth did not respond, Phillip added, concerned, "I hope you let Max down easy. I don't want any problems and I'd hate to replace him. You don't know how hard it is to find a good bassist who will work with Ricky. We lucked out after Milton pulled his disappearing act."

She nodded. They'd only gone a few days without a bassist after their last one just up and quit without notice, but it was a difficult time for all the performers.

Elizabeth didn't think there was going to be any problems with Max. He seemed to have accepted the fact she didn't want to date him without any animosity or any expectation. After all, he was still giving her free bass lessons in exchange for dinner at her place one night a week. To the casual observer, it probably looked as if they were dating, but to her profound relief, Max hadn't expressed any interest in recreating their one unremarkable lip lock. Their friendship had remained boringly platonic.

"We just want you happy, baby!" Malcolm placed a comforting hand on hers.

"I am happy, Mom!" She smiled up at him, before becoming serious. "I think I'm just not ready to put myself out there. I'm just focused on my music right now."

"Good! That's exactly what I want to hear. I need you to put yourself out there and bring some new songs with you." Phillip, ever the business man, reminded her. " _The Black Checkers'_ last night is tomorrow." Elizabeth frowned. Her favorite group was going back to Atlanta. They had friends there that were going to get them in front of some important producers. "I'm going to need at least two more songs from you in order to fill their slot."

It took her a minute to realize what he had just said. "Fill their slot? As the closer? Me?" This news might not have excited other singers, but it was the first real professional accomplishment in her otherwise fledgling musical career. Elizabeth could barely contain her happiness or her gratitude.

"You've earned it, Lizzy." Phillip told her grinning. "Besides, I think I'd be lynched by your adoring fans if I don't give you the headliner spot. They practically rioted tonight when you left the stage after that encore."

Shaking her head with modesty, she could not believe it! She was going to be the headliner at _The Hole_. Elizabeth Bennet! Her. Mentally running through some of her original songs that she hadn't performed yet, she tried to decide which would be perfect for her first set. "I'll see what I can whip up for next week. I don't want to disappoint you."

"You could stand in the middle of the stage and not sing a note. You'd never disappoint." Malcolm said, taking her empty glass and washing it in the sink. "I'll even let you sing _Red Light Special_ again if you want."

There had been some trouble the last time she performed it. One of the regulars who sat in front had crawled up on the stage and had wrapped himself around her legs and refused to let go. Reacting quickly, Max had to nearly break his bass over the guys head before he would release her. After he had been peeled off her admirer, Jessie and Paul had _gently_ escorted the man to the exit. She was still a little freaked out by it. "I think I'll pass on that song."

As she stepped through the door to leave, Elizabeth heard the ever security conscious Phillip double check the locks behind her as she prepared to walk the two blocks to the subway. It was a perfect September night— clear, dark and just cold enough to wear her light bomber jacket. Always partial to evenings, she really enjoyed the feel of them in New York. Even now, the sighs and hums of the slumbering city made it seem as if someone had simply turned down the volume. The constant energy, NYC's vibe, was something that she absolutely loved.

 **She was going to be a headliner! Her name would be on the banner!**

Elizabeth couldn't help herself, right there in the deserted street, she did a little dance of celebration. It was not flash dance, but oh, what a feeling! She squealed and hugged herself. This was one of the best nights of her life. Then, she looked heavenward and sent a silent prayer to her guardian angel. Jane. None of this would have been possible without her sister. Tears threatened for a moment before she collected herself, smiling at how happy her sister would have been for her. She took a step in the direction of her subway station when she heard her name called.

"Elizabeth."

She looked back expecting to see Malcolm or Phillip, but instead, William Darcy, like an unwanted specter, rose out of his low slung sports car. Even knowing he had been back to the bar since that night in her dressing room did not really prepare her for his presence now. Or, its arresting effect on her.

Malcolm was not wrong. Darcy was fine. In fact, he looked even more devastatingly male than she remembered. He was not dressed for business, she realized taking in his casual outfit. The cream sweater stretched over his imposing chest was a splotch of color under the dim streetlights above them. The jeans he wore were designer and clearly defined his long legs and slim waist. He stopped a few steps in front of her, as if he were sizing her up, as if she were his opponent. There was a ghost of an amused smile on his lips and she wondered briefly if he witnessed her little celebratory dance. However unlikely, she hoped not.

"You aren't seriously considering walking home by yourself at this time of night."

She glanced around. There wasn't a soul in either direction. "It does appear that I am."

"Do you know how dangerous it is for a woman to be out by herself?" He turned back to his car, keys in hand. "Get in. Let me give you a lift."

"You're very kind, Mr. Darcy, but I don't accept rides from people I don't know."

He looked almost hurt by her refusal. "Well, if you won't let me give you a ride, at least let me put you in a cab."

As inviting as it sounded, she wasn't willing to splurge on such an extravagance. Even with her promotion, she still had rent to pay. Elizabeth thanked him for his concern and started on her way again.

His voice followed her down the street. "Since we last spoke, I've been doing some thinking." She stopped, curious in spite of herself. "I'll record an album with you under the Darcy Records label. No demo required. I'm even prepared to give you a ten thousand dollar advance against your portion of sales."

 _Ten thousand dollars?_ She had to be dreaming. "Against my portion of sales?"

"Generally, forty percent after expenses. It's the industry standard. Darcy Records will take sixty percent, since I am assuming all of the upfront risk. But these tedious aspects of our arrangement will be hammered out by the attorneys. I want - " He hesitated and wiped at his mouth before telling her, "I want our focus to be on the music we'll make together."

"Music we make together?" She repeated in disbelief, skeptical. "You really want to sign me to your label? This isn't some sort of joke?"

"You don't know me well enough yet, but I don't ever joke about my business, Elizabeth." He tucked his hands in the front pockets of his blue jeans looking strangely vulnerable.

"And, what about your reservations?"

He met her gaze and held it. "While it's true you don't have the polish of a professional performer yet, I can't deny that you have something. . . a rare gift. I would like the opportunity to help you refine it."

"Really?" Darcy thought she had a gift. _A rare gift_. She didn't know if it was the gin, the after effects of her promotion or the unexpected compliment that was responsible for the sudden giddiness she felt. She felt somewhat smug. Well, well.

"Yes." He straightened, becoming more himself before her eyes. "However, as we've previously discussed, you also have a weight issue." He used his hands to indicate her figure. "Your clothes, your makeup, even the way you wear your hair —they're all wrong. You'll need help in order for you to be successful at the next level. We'll need a personal stylist."

There it was! Her smugness withered. The rude, high and mighty, William Darcy she had become acquainted with had returned. She laughed at him. "So, in addition to my other deficits, now I can't dress myself ?"

Darcy seemed relieved she understood. "I will pick the stylist you use to fix your issues."

"Fix my issues?" _Oh, the nerve of the man!_ Since they were being frank with one another, she informed him. "As you have pointed out, I'm not exactly a young thang. I'm not in dire need of assistance in finding myself. I know very well who I am and what I want." His eyes narrowed on her irritating her further. "We haven't suddenly found ourselves in Pygmalion, Mr. Darcy. I'm not a puppet. I'm a woman. I'm not changing everything about myself to please someone else." No, those days were far behind her.

On any other man, Elizabeth would have thought the look that flittered quickly over his face was respect. It evaporated quickly as he crossed his arms over his broad chest while he considered her. "One thing that definitely doesn't need to change is your spirit."

"Oh, joy! I'm so relieved there is something about me you actually do like." She heard him laugh before she spun on her heel. She had enough of this man and she was late for her train. When she heard the chirp of his car alarm and then his footsteps as he followed her, she wasn't entirely surprised. She imagined it wasn't an everyday occurrence when Mr. Darcy didn't get something he wanted.

As she arrived at the subways station, her ride home was just pulling away from the platform. Elizabeth groaned. When he joined her, she rolled her eyes. All she wanted was to become intimately acquainted with the box of Hostess Twinkies she had bought on impulse at the store earlier that day. Darcy looked unconcerned, as if he didn't care one smidge about her discomfort or the fact she was basically trapped against her will into waiting with him. He leaned nonchalantly against a wall covered in graffiti. She felt him watching her even though she was putting on a show of ignoring him. "You must realize that if your vanity hadn't been hurt at the café that first night, we wouldn't even be having this disagreement about you signing with me now. We both know then that you would have jumped at the chance."

The truth of it galled her. If he'd offered this very thing on that night before she had heard his awful comments, she might have signed his infernal contract in her own blood. Her silence had continued for too long.

"I thought so."

Arrogance was stamped on his proud face, and she fought the overwhelming urge to sock in him in his perfectly chiseled nose. _Did he always have to be right? Was he one of those men?_ Elizabeth suspected strongly he was cut from the same cloth as Peter. He had always had to be right, too, which left the being wrong mostly to her. With a disgusted sigh, she looked back into the dark tunnel, willing the next train to hurry along.

Darcy would not be quiet. "Georgie was right. If you let us, we can move past our poor beginning. I'm more than willing to do so."

She could not believe his audacity and glared at him incredulously. He had insulted her each and every time they met and he was now implying that it was her inability to forgive him for doing so that was standing in the way of progress between them.

Elizabeth struggled to remain polite. "I'm flattered by your offer. Truly. But I'm afraid my answer is still no."

The next train arrived with a shriek, answering her silent prayer. She hurried forward but was prevented entry as she had to wait as several people exited. "Ms. Bennet!" She turned to face him surprised to see he no longer wore his cocky self-assured expression. "You drive a hard bargain. I'll advance you twenty-five thousand dollars."

He didn't understand it wasn't about the money. He could have been offering her a million dollars, and she was just too tired to listen to him anymore. She was not going to miss this train and be forced to stand on this platform resisting him, as exhausted as she was.

"Accept my offer, Elizabeth. Don't be a fool and throw this opportunity away." She took another step toward her destination. "At least, hear what I am offering further." Another step. Something changed in his voice. " _Please,_ Elizabeth."

Shaking her head again, she was about to go through the open doors to the train.

 _Only she couldn't_.

It felt as if she had walked into a pool of invisible quicksand that held her stock still. Her legs refused to move. And as clearly as she had heard him moments earlier, she heard a female whisper in her ear, _"Have you gone crazy? You can't walk away from this man, Lizzy."_

So surprised at hearing Jane's voice, a voice missing from her life for so long, she looked in both directions on the platform before turning back to the train car.

Something cold pressed against her cheek. Placing her hand over the spot, she was enveloped in the clean, floral scent her sister always wore, so out of place in a dingy subway in New York City that there could be no rational explanation for it. Tears sprang to her eyes.

In front of her, the doors to her train closed. The invisible presence released her as quickly as it had grabbed her, and Elizabeth stumbled forward a step. Powerless, she watched in quiet fascination as the lights of the car faded away into the dark tunnel. She held herself still, desperately wishing to hear Jane's voice again. Just one more time.But there was nothing on the silent platform for several seconds but the clatter of the departing train.

When Darcy laid his hands lightly on her shoulders, she nearly leapt out of her skin. He had clearly taken her staying as her acquiescence. It took her a moment to recover herself from her shock, a moment more to realize his long fingers were massaging her shoulders gently.

Bewildered, Elizabeth turned to confront him, certain she was going to refuse him again, but she stopped short of speaking. His expression was thoughtful, no longer did it bear any trace of arrogance. Facing each other, he spoke softly. "You won't regret this decision. I promise you. This is the beginning of a special partnership between us. This is the start of something very good."

It was not his words, but the certainty in his eyes which undermined the last of her resistance. However, she meant what she had told him earlier. She was not willing to sacrifice herself ever again. She would not concede everything she was to another person. She pulled back from his touch.

"If I am going to sign with you," she saw his jaw tense at the suggestion she still might not, "I have three conditions. One, I have to give _The Hole_ a month's notice. Two, I get to pick all the songs on the album. And three, since you made me miss my train, you have to give me a ride home in that fancy car of yours after all, Mr. Darcy."

Silently, he withstood her challenge, appraising her for several minutes as thoroughly as she was him, before he countered. "You can give Mr. Masters two week's notice. Not one day more. I'll let you choose _half_ the songs on the album, but I will choose the others." She found herself the recipient of a smile she was sure he used to bend women to do his bidding. "And I'll give you a ride home as long as you stop calling me Mr. Darcy. That was my father. I insist you call me Will."

Their stare off continued. She found upon reflection she could live with those terms, and extended her hand to him. "Then, I guess, you have yourself a deal, Will."

She'd surprised him that was clear. For a second, he glanced at her hand before raising his attention back to her eyes. "Deal." His lips quirked, but he pumped her hand before escorting her back to his car for the promised ride home.


	4. Chapter 4

I have not given up on The Jane Plan. I actually had the next three chapters written but I decided I did not like what I had (way too much for a teen rating) and I am going to re-write it. Patience will be rewarded. I am off on Friday and hope to have at least the kinks worked out of the next two chapters.

For those of you who didn't know, I've had a very rough last few months with real life issues that have sapped my creativity. I have 10 chapters of GOF already written so basically I'm just posting what I already have of this story - I hope you don't mind.

Fibby - I promise I will write you back a long, satisfying email as soon as I get a minute. Love your Crazy Canadian Bacon. No Rob Thomas is mine - tho' I might be appeased with either Chris Hemsworth or Alex Skarsgard.

 **This Girl Is On Fire**

 **CHAPTER 4 Success is Getting What You Want**

"Success is getting what you want, happiness is wanting what you get" ― W.P. Kinsella

Darcy stared out from the top floor windows of the building that bore his name. Normally, the view motivated him, inspired him, but today, looking out the floor-to- ceiling windows, he saw but did not really appreciate the sunrise. Sighing, he glanced at his watch which indicated it was now just after six. Elizabeth's appointment was less than two hours away and he felt an overwhelming sense of anticipation at her arrival.

After dropping her off at her place, Darcy had come directly here compelled to review the contract she would sign. He'd spent most of the night making revisions, closing the far too many loopholes he discovered in the document, then he'd emailed his efforts to Richard to review. He stood up to stretch his back, working muscles kinked by his night's endeavors.

He was not tired. Quite the opposite. A dormant part of him, the part he swore had died with his father, had somehow been resurrected. Now awakened, it was ravenous. It was damn near salivating at the prospect of being all alone with Elizabeth and going through the creative process with her.

In his private bathroom, Darcy stripped out of his jeans and sweater. He went through his morning ablutions, emerging in a crisp black business suit and tie from the selection he kept in his office. Looking at his reflection, he did not see any traces of the sleepless night around his eyes. That was good. He wanted to appear confident and professional — _in charge_ —when they met today. She could not know the prospect of working with her had kept him far from sleep. Satisfied with his appearance, he returned to his office to see if Richard had responded to his email.

Discovering no response, his mind returned to its previous preoccupation. What was she doing right this moment? Was she as excited as he was? Did she have any inkling of how special the music they were going to make together would be?

He wished he knew, but Elizabeth was a difficult woman to read. On the long ride to her apartment building after she finally accepted his offer, the woman only spoke to give him directions. Most women would have yakked his ears off to fill the silence in their excitement or made a deliberate pass at him, but it was refreshing she did neither.

When they parked in front of her building, Darcy almost stopped her from getting out. The very brick of the ramshackle twelve story building appeared tired of holding it together. _She had to be joking!_ Someone as vibrant as she couldn't possibly live in such a place. However, she thanked him for the ride and got out of his car without a backwards glance. Fearing for her safety, Darcy literally had to run the few steps to catch up to escort her inside. He hadn't expected a doorman, but to discover there were no security locks on the front door to the building alarmed him. Anyone passing by could simply enter the building. It wasn't safe for her to live like this!

Inside the lobby, Elizabeth didn't even approach the elevator letting him know over her shoulder that it was out of order. The stairwell was thankfully well lit, but he swore he smelled faint traces of urine as he carefully followed her up the narrow passage. With a trained eye, he noted several tell tale signs of a rodent infestation and his horror grew.

After going up three more flights of stairs, they exited into a dimly lit hallway. It took him a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, and as Elizabeth fumbled with her keys he could hear the soft sound of her labored breathing. The sound distracted him from his growing concern of her living arrangements to concern over her cardiovascular fitness.

As the owner of her label, it would be irresponsible not to address the matters head on. There was a practical side for his concern, he reminded himself. Out of shape and overweight she could collapse due to exhaustion. Developing endurance would help her deal with the demands her success was going to place on her. Her touring and promotional engagements would seem like marathons compared to her limited work at _The Hole_.

Finally, she opened the door to her unit and Darcy followed her in uninvited, curious to see her private living space. Even though it was clean, tidy and smelled wonderfully of her—an enticing blend of musk and vanilla—it was shockingly tiny and depressing. He bet if he had wanted to, he could have stretched out his arms and touched the walls on both sides of her apartment. The all purpose room served as her kitchen, living room and bedroom. Every piece of furniture, which there was not much, was old and scarred. Her kitchen table, which could maybe seat two, seemed to serve a dual purpose as a dining space and a makeshift desk. Along the far wall, there were two doors. One stood open revealing a small closet which was meticulously organized. The other door, which was closed, he figured must conceal her bathroom.

A tiny futon was wedged under the only window in the space, a rickety fire escape the prominent thing of interest in the view. There was a nightstand next to the futon, with a lamp and alarm clock. The only items not precisely orderly in her apartment were the stack of what appeared to be magazines next to the nightstand. Something about the disorder drew him and as he moved closer, Darcy realized they were not magazines at all but a stack of cheap spiral bound notebooks whose covers were severely creased.

"Those are my song books." She sounded nervous at his inspection. "I like jotting my thoughts down. It's been that way since I was a kid."

He counted at least thirty of them. "Do you compose too?"

"Sometimes. Lyrics come easily, but melodies are much harder for me."

It was the opposite for him. Darcy heard the symphony of life all around him while he struggled to express himself in words. Selecting a notebook from the top of the stack, he thumbed through it. Each page was full of her neat hand writing, page after page of songs and ideas. There had to be dozens to choose from in this one book alone. He stopped randomly on a song she had titled _Tipsy_.

With his back to her, Darcy read it aloud. He was struck once more by the originality of her words and poetic license. She was an impressive lyricist as well as a singer.

In the theater in his mind, she was on a stage under a spotlight, the sound of the various combinations of piano, strings and guitar needed to bring the song to life sprang unbidden. No, he corrected himself immediately. That was wrong. _Tipsy_ was a sultry song. Teasing and slightly yearning. She would start off alone, without accompaniment. Draw in the audience. He could hear the baseline starting, softly plucking. Yes, that was it.

Shutting his eyes helped Darcy bring the melody into sharper focus. The saxophone, the soft marriage of the trumpet, maybe a violin for balance. The score was just at the edge of realization, his fingers itched in desperate need of a pencil and sheet music.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and the spell was broken. His attention riveted to her standing by her open front door, looking at him expectantly. "Well, thanks again for the ride home, Will. I'm a little tired, and I'd really like to get some sleep now."

Fighting back a laugh of disbelief, Darcy literally could not remember a time when a woman had kicked him out of her place. Most of the time, they begged him to stay. Glancing again at her living space, Darcy's gaze fell to the futon and he wondered how it was even possible for her to even entertain her male suitors here. He realized he wanted very much to stay. If only to dig through her vault for the promised masterpieces within.

"It's really late, Will." She glanced into the hallway to reinforce her wish to be alone. Another time, he told himself. They'd have years to explore the fruits of her talent.

At the door, he handed her notebook over to her waiting hand with a great sense of reluctance. Struggling to maintain his professional demeanor, he said, "As we discussed, I want you at Darcy Records at 8:00 am. Sharp. Don't keep me waiting."

"I won't. Goodnight." Then, without another word, Elizabeth shut the door in his face.

Darcy felt the loss of her presence keenly. Like a candle being snuffed out in a dark room. His hand raised of its own volition. Powerful was the urge to knock, to have her open the door. The desire to convince her to let him stay was as primal as it was perplexing. For several long minutes, he stood staring at the closed door between them confused by this irrational longing to remain in her company.

After a moment, he found himself grinning at her closed door. Yes, Elizabeth was definitely different from any other woman he had ever encountered. She amused him. Intrigued him. Was a challenge to him.

As Darcy walked down the staircase leading to the lobby of her building, he found himself humming the melody he had composed in his mind for her song. Thankfully, the distance from her seemed to help clear his head. The concerns he felt about her living conditions returned. He consoled himself with the fact that she would be moving to better accommodations when the advance was paid. While twenty-five thousand was not much money, it would be enough for her to move to a more acceptable location. Someplace safe where he would not have to worry about her.

Blinking, Darcy returned to the present and checked the clock on his wall. Was time moving at all? Desperate for a distraction, he called his sister. Georgiana answered whining how he always seemed to call on the only morning of the entire week when her first class wasn't until noon.

Interrupting her sleepy tirade, he stated, "And here I thought I had news you might be mildly interested in about Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth?" Then, a much more focused, "Was the demo that good? You never did send it to me."

He didn't want to tell his sister that he had not even bothered with one. "We're signing her contract this morning."

"I told you!"

Darcy smiled at his sister's enthusiasm. "I do believe you might have mentioned something about signing her."

"Let's go out tonight and celebrate! Just the three of us - you, me and Lizzy."

"I can't, Georgie. I'm swamped." Besides, Darcy didn't want to celebrate. He wanted to create. In order to do that, he had a lot of projects that needed to be tied up or delegated so he could be free to work exclusively with Elizabeth. Just the thought of guiding her, being alone with her - images that had nothing to do with work swarmed him. Adrenaline flowed. God, what was happening to him. Georgie was quiet, had he missed something she said? "What was that?"

She sighed. "I said I worry about you, Will. You work too hard. You've been rather distracted lately, you know?"

Yes, he had been distracted. He expected after signing Elizabeth that this annoying preoccupation with her would subside. His interest usually waned with a woman after a few weeks when he got what he wanted. It would this time too. He was positive.

To his sister, he said, "I promise I'll take a few days off." Just not anytime soon. He shut his eyes organizing the next few weeks in his mind. "After Elizabeth signs her contract this morning, I have her meeting with Suzzanne Valentine."

Georgie whistled. "Bringing out the big guns, are we? She did a magnificent job with Cara last year, and the look she created for Justin and his band of dorks for their last tour was phenomenal. Suzzanne's fantastic and Lizzy will love working with her." His sister's opinion meant a lot to him. It was his greatest wish that after her graduation that she would come to work with him and Richard at Darcy Records

"I think so, too. I needed someone I trust that can move quickly. I want to have Elizabeth in the studio laying down some tracks within the month."

"That fast?" He disagreed. Signing Elizabeth to a contract felt like it had taken forever. "Will Barry or Gia produce her?"

"Neither." He had no doubt that Elizabeth would enjoy working with either one, but he knew only one person who could extract the exact sound he wanted from her. "I'm producing." His sister's stunned silence spoke volumes through the phone. "You know, I do know a little about what we do here, Georgie."

"I know. It's just you've never produced an artist before." There was a small pause, "Why now?"

Richard's arrival spared Darcy from having to come up with an explanation. His cousin did not appear amused in the slightest, and he glanced at his watch. Seven.

"Sis, I have to go. Our cousin finally decided to join me at work. I'll give you a full update later tonight." As soon as he hung up, he was quick to address Richard. "You clearly have some thoughts about the changes I've made?"

"Thoughts?" His cousin held up several pages he had in his hands. "Where do I begin? She gets creative freedom to pick half her songs?"

"On the first album, Richard. She won't sign otherwise."

"So? Move on to the next artist. Isn't that what you always say? What you always do?"

He feigned a disinterest he did not feel. "She's not like all the others."

"I see." Darcy knew Richard didn't. There was no way he could without hearing her for himself, seeing her in front of a crowd. He squashed another spurt of anxious energy as his eyes drifted once more to check the time. "A twenty-five thousand advance? For an unknown artist?"

After seeing her place, she obviously needed the money more than he did. He fought a sudden urge to double it. "If the money is going to be a problem, I'll cover it out of one of my personal accounts."

"You know very well that insignificant amount of money is not an issue." Richard sighed, taking a seat in front of his desk. "What concerns me is that you're setting a dangerous precedent here. Changing our standard contract? You don't want other artists finding out about these terms and leveraging demands like this in their own contracts."

"I'd walk away from any other act before I'd agree to the terms I've given her."

Richard held his gaze for a long time, before he slid on his reading glasses, "You've changed the language in the exclusivity clause. Our standard contract is written not to permit our artists to perform anywhere without the implicit approval of Darcy Records. Why the change? And what precisely is _The Hole_?"

"I agreed to allow her to give her current employers," here Darcy used the international symbol for quotes with his fingers, " _The Hole_ notice. It's literally a dump that offers live entertainment in the Lower East Side."

Richard consulted some notes. "Have Mr. Masters and Mr. DuRone been consulted?"

"No, they haven't." Darcy couldn't imagine that would be a pleasant meeting. He was stealing their best talent right out from under their noses.

"Did she provide you a copy of her contract with them? Do you anticipate a lengthy buy-out negotiation?"

"There is no contract with her current employer." Richard's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Other than being lucky enough to discover Elizabeth - they're definitely not very astute business men." He bristled remembering his interaction with both of the owners. "However, she is rather loyal to them and is adamant about giving them two weeks notice. After that, our clause will begin."

"Why not just wait until the two week's are over? What's the rush to sign her now?"

"Because," Darcy tried mightily to keep the edge from his voice, "I want her signed this morning." What he didn't say was that if she was given time, he feared Elizabeth might change her mind. He did not have the vaguest idea what had made her finally say yes to him at the subway station. The reason would no longer matter as soon as she signed on the proverbial dotted line; she would no longer have the option to walk away from him. She would, for all intent and purpose, belong to him. It was something he wanted desperately. He was willing to make concessions he otherwise would not in the interest of expediency.

"Alright, boss." Nodding, Richard made an entry on his computer. "I'll take care of the notification of the separation of her employment and provide formal notice of our proprietary rights once the contract has been executed."

For the next half hour, Darcy was lost in his own thoughts as his cousin competently transferred his changes into legalese.

Richard made a choking sound. "We're hiring a dietician for her, a stylist, and a personal trainer? We're going to spring for all of her hair, makeup, jewelry and clothing expenses? We don't normally include this in an initial contract, even when there is definite brand recognition."

Darcy swiveled in his chair, putting Richard at his back and drank deeply from his cold coffee. He knew what he wanted. The sun was moving, rising—the same trajectory Elizabeth's career was going to take. She was going to be a star. He had no doubt about it at all. It was a little like knowing the winning lottery numbers before a drawing. "It's written the way I want."

"Are you that sure? She's a nobody, Will." Darcy fought the strong reaction that leapt in him to have someone describe Elizabeth in such a way. "A three-year contract? Wouldn't it be better if we—"

"No, it wouldn't be better. I need three years with her." His voice was surprising clipped, exposing the unusual irritation he felt. Darcy stood up, moving toward his windows. He wasn't green in the industry, and he'd signed more than his share of acts over the last eight years. They had always been profitable. Even though he knew rationally all of the arguments Richard were making were valid, he found he didn't appreciate this line of questioning.

Darcy didn't want to cause his cousin to become apoplectic, but he had originally considered a five-year or a ten-year contract, but eventually settled on three. Elizabeth might, after all, object to such a length of time. She might get sick of touring and want to settle down at some point. She was young enough that she might even want to start a family.

His cousin continued to question, "And she gets forty percent after expenses?"

"It's what I promised her." Her sad apartment surfaced again before him.

"Jesus, Darcy, did you also happen to promise her one of your kidneys?" He shot his cousin a withering look. Richard removed his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. "At least tell me you didn't offer her any part of the merchandizing?"

"It never came up." That, at least, was true.

"Thank God. If she's half as talented as you believe, we should get a nice return. Hopefully, it will be enough to help defray some of these upfront expenses by lowering her percentage there."

"No." Darcy said quickly, "Give her the standard percentage rate. I don't want her to have any reason to reject this offer."

A queer look draped over his attorney's face. "What artist in their right mind starting out would reject the opportunity to be part of Darcy Records, Will?"

With Elizabeth Bennet, nothing was guaranteed. Until she signed her contract and belonged to him completely, he would not be able to rest.

*(*

"You're going to put a hole in that expensive rug of yours if you insist on pacing." Darcy ignored Richard, glanced again at his Rolex. He felt restless. Perhaps it was the effect of his sleepless night, but every minute that ticked past made it even more apparent that she wasn't coming, that she had already changed her mind. He should have spent the night with her. They could have figured out a way to make the futon of hers work.

"It's only eight fifteen." Richard offered, "Hardly anything to be concerned over."

Maggie buzzed his office and he took a deep, steadying breath before answering her _._

"You asked that I inform you the minute Ms. Bennet has arrived. She's here. Jacob just called up."

"Have him send her up to the conference room on 12. Make sure the receptionist there understands that she is to be made comfortable." Overwhelming relief coursed through him. "Were you able to get a hold of Dr. Tanner? And, Ms. Valentine?" His secretary confirmed she had secured the requested appointments. "Very good, Maggie."

When he straightened his tie, he found Richard watching him closely. "What?"

"Nothing, Will. Nothing at all." But, the look on his cousin's face was one of amusement. Darcy didn't feel amused. He was too keyed up for humor, and he didn't feel like fooling with his cousin's antics today.

Upon entering the large conference room, Darcy's gaze hunted for her. She was standing next to the bank of windows peering down admiring the view. The sight of her slowed the hungry something down inside of him. The anxiety that had made his morning so difficult to bear dissolved.

Elizabeth turned at the sound of their arrival and Darcy saw her for the first time in the natural light of day. His heart froze in near shock. Without stage makeup, with just the ambient light on her, her unusual face looked deceptively young. Her hair was in a hastily-made pony tail, she wore faded jeans and a tattered Ohio Buckeyes sweatshirt that had obviously seen better days, but she looked strangely fresh and unbelievably innocent. An unexpected surge of protectiveness flew through him.

After introducing his cousin to her, Darcy endured what he felt was an unnecessary discourse between Elizabeth and Richard about college football. Finally, they took his suggestion and adjourned to the large table in the room to conduct business.

"Elizabeth, will your attorney be joining us?" Richard asked placing her thick contract on the table.

"I don't have an attorney." She stifled a yawn. "Do I have to have one?"

"No, of course not." The barely detectable glee in Richard's voice grated on Darcy. She should have an attorney here watching out for her interests. How did she not know this? "If you have any questions, I assure you that Will and I will be more than happy to address them with you."

"Great!" She picked up the heavy contract, weighing it in her hand for a moment before she placed it on the table in front of her. She reviewed the document carefully, reading it slowly and to his impatience, quite too thoroughly. Darcy had been watching her so closely that when she looked up, it startled him. "I do have a few conditions I didn't think about last night."

"And those would be?" He sounded colder than he intended, but the trepidation was returning. He didn't like this talk of more conditions. Why couldn't she put pen to paper and just sign the blasted contract like a normal person? It was a good deal for her. He had tried to think of everything to tempt her.

"I can't work the week of Thanksgiving. I'd planned to go home for a visit with my family, and I've already bought the ticket. It's non-refundable. I haven't seen them since coming to New York, and I really would like to go home as planned." She chewed on her lower lip, adding, "I also can't work on Valentine's Day. _Ever_. Jane died on that day. I just know I wouldn't be able to perform."

Her smoky eyes were so full of pain that he found himself wanting to agree to whatever it took to take that haunted look from her eyes. He nodded stiffly. Anything, she wanted as long as she just signed.

As Richard added the language to the agreement, he asked, "Any other changes you wish to make or discuss, Ms. Bennet?" Darcy glared at his cousin for even making the offer. He did not want lengthy contract negotiations. He wanted this over today. Now. This impatience was new. He usually could be counted on being the calmest head in the room. He rubbed his damp palms on his pants. Damn, was he nervous?

"No, it all seems terribly straight forward." She gave them a sleepy smile, "Do one of you boys have a pen I could borrow?"

Darcy handed her one of his own. Then, it was done with a flourish. The contract was turned to him and Darcy's signature appeared below hers. Their names twined forever on the document. He rose to his feet and stretched out his hand to her. "Let me be the first to welcome you into the Darcy family."

While Richard left to make copies for both of them, Elizabeth looked about the room and shifted in her seat almost as if she were uncomfortable. "So, when do we get started?"

"Yesterday," he answered.

She laughed. A miraculous sound that did something to him. He didn't remember a time when he had felt so raw, so exposed as he did with her. "We've got to move quickly. Our first priority is getting you into performance shape. Then, getting the album recorded. Finally, the promotion and touring obligations."

She nodded solemnly, looking frightened.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine, Elizabeth." He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers, "I won't lie. For the next couple of months, your life is going to get exceptionally busy with all that has to happen to finish your first record. It's going to be a lot of work, but I'll be there to help you through it all. Every step of the way. Putting together a record requires a lot of coordination."

When Richard returned with the original signed contract, Darcy withdrew his hand from hers. His cousin had obviously caught the tail end of their conversation because he offered, "Normally those details are worked out between your agent and your producer."

"I don't have an agent." She continued on airily, "I've never needed one before."

"Then, your producer will probably work directly with you." Richard turned to him. "Do we know yet who is going to produce the album?"

"I am."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Richard pause in gathering his belongings before looking between him and Elizabeth. She was distracted by staring at her advance check in shock as if she couldn't believe it were real to notice. Again, his cousin said, "I see."

"I'm sure you have other things to attend to this morning now that you are done here." Darcy pointed out.

"Of course, I do." Before he left, much to Darcy's annoyance, Richard stopped at the door and addressed Elizabeth directly. "It has been a real pleasure meeting you. I certainly look forward to hearing the music you make with Will."

"Me too." She reminded him of a cat as she stretched her arms and legs simultaneously. "I'll do my best to not let him down."

"I have no doubt you will more than exceed his expectations." Darcy's glare finally chased his now interfering cousin from the room.

Once they were finally alone, Darcy got straight to the point. He provided Elizabeth an outline of what activities he had planned for the next two days. "Tomorrow morning, I'll pick you up for your first meeting with Dr. Tanner, your dietician, and then we'll head to the gym so we can go about selecting a personal trainer for you."

"Tomorrow?" Her eyes widened. "Is that really necessary to start all of that now?"

"Yes." He could not concede the importance of getting her health in hand. Her eyes lowered and she almost seemed to shrink in her seat. He reminded her gently, "You just signed the agreement that you would meet Dr. Tanner weekly until I have him replaced, or I decide you no longer need his services. You also agreed you'd work out at least five days a week for a minimum of an hour a day." He'd never felt bad about being honest before he met her. Shifting, he leaned forward, trying to explain in a way that wasn't so offensive. "You're going to be under considerable stress touring and promoting. Carrying extra weight is bad on your heart. A dietician will help you—"

"I'm not completely ignorant, Will, I know what a they do." Her voice was sharp, her eyes watery and he prayed mightily that she wouldn't cry. He wasn't sure what he would do if she did. This struggle to control himself around a woman was alarmingly new and left him feeling a little out of his element.

To distract them both, he stated, "That's tomorrow. Today, you will meet with Suzzanne Valentine. I've hired her to be your personal stylist. She's the best I have ever worked with, and we have a close business relationship. She will keep you from - "

"Embarrassing the label?" She finished for him. Clearly, he was making a mess of this line of conversation. He found himself scrambling for a subject that would rouse her interest. Make her smile at him again.

"After our visit to the gym tomorrow, I'm going to introduce you to Paul Windale. He'll be our sound manager. He has lined up some musicians for us to audition to play on the album. We'll see who—" She frowned, a look unnatural for her. Seeing her response, it took considerable effort for him not to snap in irritation. He fought to keep his voice even. "What is the problem?"

"Since it's an audition, would it be possible for _The Hole House_ to try out too?"

The ink on the contract was already dry. He had no reason to make any concessions for her. No reason whatsoever. However, as hope blossomed on her face, Darcy found her idea not without merit. She was used to those musicians, and they already knew some of the songs that she would more than likely choose to fill her half of the CD. It might be expedient. In the end, he could find no problem with permitting Elizabeth this latitude.

"I'll have Richard make the suggestion when he consults with Mr. Masters and Mr. DuRone later today. Of course, the band would receive compensation if they are selected."

"That'd be great." He felt ridiculously happy when she smiled at him brightly. "Max'll be so excited." _Max?_ Oh, yes, the bassist. He'd forgotten about him. Was he the reason she could not be rid of him fast enough last night? She reached out and covered his hands, her face blossoming, her voice eager. "You'll really like him, Will. He's been giving me free bass lessons for months."

"Free lessons." He repeated dully. From his experience, nothing in this world ever came free. The memory of the handsome bassist rocking closely next to her as they performed _Super Massive_ did nothing but cement the certainty while he might be able to tolerate the man long enough to get the album recorded, he doubted, and doubted rather strongly, that either man would like the other. Darcy decided as he stood to escort her up to his office that these little _free_ lessons were going to have to cease. If Elizabeth wanted lessons in any subject, he'd make arrangements to provide them to her. Preferably himself.

^^v^^

When she followed him back to his office for their meeting with Ms. Valentine, Elizabeth wasn't surprised to find that the waiting area outside of Darcy's office was larger than her entire apartment. The chrome furnishings were all ultra modern, traces of silver and blues playing a main theme in the expensive framed paintings and plush upholstery of the many sofas and chairs littering the area. Along the far wall in an imposing glass case that ran the length of the office was a visual representation of Darcy Records collection of platinum records. Immediate to the front of the doors, an imposing desk was manned by a vibrant woman between fifty and sixty with short-cropped gray hair. Darcy stopped there and the woman handed him an imposing stack of mail.

When Darcy, who was absorbed in reviewing his messages, did not make the introductions, Elizabeth extended her hand, introducing herself. The older woman seemed to look at her appraisingly before she took her offered hand. "Maggie Reynolds."

"A real pleasure to meet you, m'am."

The older woman continued to stare at her until the ringing of her phone startled her into action. Excusing herself, she answered the line with polished professionalism. "No, I'm sorry, Mr. Darcy is not available. I'll take a message if you –"

A second line rang, and to Elizabeth's amazement, a third one, then a fourth. Evidentially, it was a three ring circus keeping Will Darcy organized. Oblivious to the frenetic efforts of his secretary, Darcy's attention never wavered from the many messages he was processing.

When he did finish, Maggie intuitively sensed it and put the caller she was speaking with on hold.

"These need to be answered before day's end. I'll send you the appropriate responses via email on those. These need to be scheduled," he glanced briefly in her direction, "sometime in the next two weeks. If they can't accommodate my schedule, then I'm frankly not interested. Call Ms. Richardson and let her know I can attend the premiere since I will already be in Paris on business. I'll fly into Rome, but I won't be staying the weekend. I have responsibilities here that require my attention. This stack can be sent the normal _not interested_ responses."

"Very good, Mr. Darcy."

"Elizabeth and I are expecting Ms. Valentine, who as you know, is running late." Darcy consulted his watch looking displeased, before glancing her way again. "Please ring through to my office when she arrives. I don't want any other interruptions until then. We will await her arrival in my office."

"I understand. No interruptions." Maggie repeated. His secretary's eyes briefly drifted in her direction, as if curious, then snapped back to her employer. Personally, Elizabeth decided she'd rather be in the bright lobby with one of the trendy magazines that dotted the tables in the waiting area than alone with Darcy in his office without any interruptions. "Will, you're obviously very busy, and I don't want to intrude. I'll just hang out here and keep Maggie company."

His secretary's eyebrow rose. Elizabeth did not imagine many people avoided private time with the enigmatic man to her right often.

"Elizabeth, if I wanted you to wait out here, I would've said so. Now, if you please?" His voice was authoritative. Left no real choice, she dropped the magazine. Maggie gave her an encouraging smile as she followed behind him.

In his office, a space even larger than the lobby, she found the same color pattern as the outer office, but in darker and decidedly more masculine hues —he had to be a fan of the combination of silver and blue —and whoever decorated the space had amazing taste. It was beautiful and she had no doubt, functional.

Removing the jacket of his suit, Darcy lowered himself into an impressive chair behind a massive desk while Elizabeth selected a chair in front of him, feeling oddly like a child summoned to the principal's office.

He offered her a drink from the small mini-refrigerator built into the small bar, but she declined. The crystal decanter that sat atop it held what she suspected was an expensive scotch. It strangely beckoned and she wondered what he'd think if she poured herself a shot so early in the day as she struggled for her natural equilibrium. Elizabeth almost felt panicked.

 _What have I done?_

Without considering all the ramifications or even consulting her father for his opinion, she'd just recklessly committed the next three years of her life to this man. She cast about for a topic for them to discuss fighting her way through her anxiety. "I don't know how much you're paying that woman, Will, but she needs a raise."

"What woman?" he asked as he riffled in a drawer to his left. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out some impressively thick folders and laid them on his desk. He stretched as if his shoulders were bothering him.

"Maggie. If that's how she has to work all day, I don't know how she doesn't run screaming from the building." Elizabeth tilted her head to the door behind her. "If I had to do that all day long, I'd have left you ages ago."

All of his movements halted, his attention sharpened on her. "Since we have a contract, that is not possible. You should know that I expect my employees to honor their commitments and give me the best they have. I expect them to work hard for me." Message received loud and clear. She looked longingly at the liquor again.

Darcy flipped one of the folders open and started reviewing the documents before him. He continued unexpectedly, "Maggie's been with my family a long time. Prior to working with me, she worked for my father until his death."

She remembered reading somewhere his mother had passed when he was but a teenager. It was one of those innocuous things one picked up from the constant media coverage of influential people. "Is it just you and Georgie, then? No other brothers or sisters? Or a wife somewhere?" She knew he did not wear a wedding ring, but some men didn't. "A girlfriend?"

"Yes, it's just the two of us. No other siblings. No wife." He made a note on the document before crossing out a paragraph he obviously did not like. His gaze lifted, meeting hers. "No girlfriend at present."

She had to look away. Good God, he could supply enough electricity to run a small town. It was entirely too early for a dose of Will Darcy. She ran a hand absently along the armrest of her chair. "Tell me about Ms. Valentine."

"What do you want to know?" He returned his attention thankfully to his paperwork.

"What's she like?"

He shut the first folder. Opening a second one, he signed his name on a page, dating the document carefully. "Suzzanne's a very stylish, professional woman who has impeccable taste."

 _Not like me, then._ She'd chosen this path voluntarily, Elizabeth reminded herself. It was much, much too early for regrets. She was just nervous, growing ever more so, as she waited to meet this woman who would have control over her person for the foreseeable future.

Quietly, Darcy moved onto a third folder.

Her eyes drifted to the huge flat screen television mounted on his wall to the right of his desk. "Watch a lot of football on that thing?"

"Not really. I'm usually at the game in my private box if I want to watch one." She should have realized he owned a private box. She was amused that his eyes never left the paper he was reading. "Do you like football, Elizabeth?"

"I'm from Ohio. Is there any other sport?" She teased, but he did not give any indication of amusement. He was an enigma, this man. "Sundays during football season are a family ritual. Where I come from you have to choose between the Browns or the Bengals. My dad grew up in Cincinnati so we are die hard Bengal fans. I mean you can always expect a lot of heartbreak from them. In that, at least, they are terribly consistent. I think we're all masochists. Or does it make me a sadist? I always forget which likes pain."

"They both do." Darcy's hand touched the knot at his tie. "A sadist enjoys giving pain and a masochist enjoys receiving it."

Of course, he would know. He probably knew all sorts of carnal things. She giggled nervously, "Oh. I'm a masochist then. I guess."

He reached up and this time did loosened his tie, moving onto a fourth folder. She felt like an idiot. Talking to him was definitely out to pass the time. Bored, she decided to explore her surroundings instead. There were several paintings on the wall but they were too abstract to hold her interest for long. They were no doubt ridiculously expensive. Drifting to the area where his many degrees and awards were mounted, Elizabeth was surprised by his credentials. "You're an attorney?"

"Yes, but I don't practice. I leave all the legal aspects of the business for Richard to wade through. I don't enjoy it like he does. In fact, I think I only took the bar to please my father."

He had sacrificed so much time and energy in pursuit of something he did not enjoy in order to please his father? She was surprised. "And, you have an MBA." _From Harvard, no less_. She hated feeling impressed when she knew that was purpose of their prominence in his office. Teasing, she turned to face him. "Will Darcy is a well educated man."

"I'd like to think I am." He had moved without her hearing and was no longer sitting behind his desk, but on the corner of it. Perched as he was, he watched her with those devastating indigo eyes like some dark bird of prey. He didn't even have the grace to look uncomfortable being caught doing it. She was half a room away from the man but it felt as if she was standing inches from him. The man was magnetic. It took great effort to resist his pull.

A buzzer rang. It rang again. Still, he did not move. Was there something wrong with his hearing? Maybe she was suppose to answer it? "Are you going to get that?"

Darcy blinked. The line rang again and he reached over to press a button on his desk phone. "Maggie, I asked for no interruptions."

"Ms. Valentine has arrived."

"Ms. Valentine?" He hesitated, then shook his head as if he had forgotten. "Yes, of course, please send her in."

Darcy rose retightening his tie, slid back into his jacket and indicated that they would be using the table with the chairs in the corner of his office.

A stunning, svelte blonde appeared in a dress the color of puce, rushed forward in impossible heels, apologizing to Darcy profusely about the difficulty she had in finding a spot to park her Jag. Elizabeth watched in fascination as the woman pouted prettily at him and leaned in to kiss him on his cheek, leaving a liberal smear of what she could only guess was expensive lipstick.

"Suzzanne, let me introduce you to Elizabeth Bennet." As he wiped the blonde's mark from his face with a tissue, he nodded in her direction.

The woman turned clear green eyes her way. Puzzled, Elizabeth decided, best summed up the expression on her stylist's face. The woman looked between her and Darcy several times, before coming forward to shake her hand. As they shook, she could not help but compare the woman's softly manicured hands against her own calloused fingers. She wasn't the only one making a comparison. Suzzanne took her hand back, rubbing the fingers as if she had touched something she distinctly did not like.

"Well, Will. You certainly weren't wrong. This will be a challenge." Elizabeth tried not to bristle at the insult. Obviously, she had been discussed. She could only imagine what he'd told this woman after his brutal honesty to her face in her dressing room. It still hurt on a feminine level to know that he thought so little of her physically. "When will she need to be ready?"

"Two weeks, three at the most."

Suzzanne gasped, "So soon?"

"Yes. I plan to get her into a studio as soon as possible. Time is of the essence. As soon as her album is finished, her life is going to quickly become very hectic. There won't be much time for all that she needs done between finishing the album and its release. We need to take our every advantage."

Suzzanne stepped between her and Darcy. "Well, let me see what I'm working with here. Turn for me."

Cursing her choice of jeans and her dad's favorite sweatshirt, Elizabeth turned clumsily in a slow circle keeping her eyes firmly on the toes of her Timberlands.

The woman tsked. "Oh, Will. Will. Will. You're going to owe me after this." The professional batted her eyes at him as Elizabeth fought a strong urge to roll her own. "You'll have to take me somewhere really nice to make it up to me. Maybe Cabo, again? You remember the last time we were both there?"

Elizabeth wondered if Suzzanne knew about her competition. The lovely Ms. Richardson with whom he was going to attend the premiere in Italy. She would have felt sorry for the stylist, if Suzzanne had not sighed regretfully before returning her attention to Elizabeth, circling her like a buzzard. "We're going to have to make appointments with Fredrick for her hair, Petunia, no Regalias for her manicure and pedicure. She's going to have to have the works—a facial, a brow wax, leg wax and skin treatments. I'd suggest Scalias for those. I'll place some calls today, but they don't usually have any openings for weeks, sometimes the wait can be as long as a month, which could be problematic with the deadline you've set."

Darcy returned to his desk, pressing the button on his phone again. "Maggie, Ms. Valentine has given me a list of appointments she needs to have made for Elizabeth." He repeated the list her stylist gave him verbatim. "Please let the establishments know that I have personally requested their services, and they need to be calendared. Emphasis needs to be placed on sooner rather than later. This week would be ideal, but next Thursday is the absolute deadline. Tell them their cooperation in this project will be rewarded and remembered."

"Isn't it exciting to see a man who can take charge of things?" Suzzanne said in a dreamy whisper. Even though it had been solicited, Elizabeth knew her advice was actually not needed. Their new arrival clearly had a case of hero worship. Personally, she thought Darcy sounded a bit full of himself. What did _rewarded and remembered_ mean exactly?

When he finished with his secretary, she saw her stylist's lips curl into a predatory smile. "And, my budget, Will?"

"We'll discuss that when we're alone."

Maybe the compliments and flirtation were working, Elizabeth thought. Or, maybe this is how Darcy operated, interchanging women like he changed his undies. A woman in every port is what her father would have called it. She had to admit Suzzanne was a beauty, and Darcy clearly admired her work. Really, who knew how this odd man's mind worked or what attracted him?

"Over lunch?" the stunning woman suggested hopefully. "Maybe Bar Masa? I hear their new caviar roll is to die for."

She couldn't help herself, this time Elizabeth did roll her eyes. Who really ate caviar for lunch? Oh, wait, very stylish, professional woman who had impeccable taste did. The two were made for one another.

Pressing the button to Maggie again, Darcy issued additional instructions. "I need a reservation at Bar Masa for lunch today. Tell Kylie that I'd like a table for two somewhere in the back with some privacy."

Elizabeth noted she wasn't being included in the invite to this lunch with the beautiful people. That was alright, she conceded, since she was sure she would not have been able to stomach caviar on top of the blonde's coquetry. Darcy was probably worried how much she'd put away. It was with great difficulty that she did not burst out laughing at the ridiculous behavior of the fawning woman.

Besides, she had some celebrating of her own to do with her friends at _The Hole_. Malcolm and Phillip had both seemed very happy for her when they talked this morning even though it meant they were losing her. Maybe to celebrate, she'd splurge and buy them a round of yummy hot dogs from the vendor cart that was across from the bar. Her stomach quivered in anticipation of the unhealthy treat.

"Notify Sal that I'll need him to drive. I don't want to deal with parking." He added before hanging up, "Thank you, Maggie. I'd really be lost without your help."

When he rejoined them, Suzzanne pressed herself against him and expressed her gratitude by running her finger along his tie. Feeling distinctly like a third wheel and not wishing to see the two of them make out, Elizabeth couldn't get out of the office fast enough.

Grabbing her purse and her coat, she said, "Well, I think I'll just shove off now."

Darcy was a strange one. As if hadn't noticed the blonde woman practically glued to his waist, he moved forward blocking her exit. "Remember, Lizzy we have a big day planned for tomorrow. Expect me at your place at nine to pick you up. Unlike today, you need to be on time. Leave your cell phone number with Maggie, so I can contact you later if there are any changes to our schedule."

Darcy watched Elizabeth leave his office with rather mixed feelings. If he didn't need to speak privately with Suzzanne, he would've much rather enjoyed being alone with her. She fascinated him. All sleepy innocent one minute, dirty tease the next. He wondered if she was a masochist as she claimed, or if she had introduced the topic to capture his attention. She didn't have to resort to such tricks. She had his attention. Far too much of it, he realized, unable to tear his eyes off of her as she gathered her belongings and left. She didn't even look back once in his direction. If she had looked at him, he might have been tempted to leave with her.

He consoled himself that there would be time for them to get to know one another better. They had three wonderfully long years ahead of them. He smiled at the thought. Then, he shook himself from such nonproductive musings. Right now, he had to make Suzzanne understand what he wanted and what exactly Elizabeth needed to be successful. This was the priority.

There was also the matter of Suzzanne's brazen behavior that needed to be curtailed. He didn't appreciate her implying more to their personal relationship than there actually had been. It was true that they had enjoyed each other's company one summer _briefly_ several years before, but it had only been a short, ill-conceived fling. It was well known in their circle that Darcy didn't do relationships. Suzzanne had been informed of this before they started, and he did not mince words with her when he ended it. He didn't want to examine too closely why it grated on him more than usual that she had chosen to act this way now in front of Elizabeth.

"Suzzanne, " he began after they arrived at Bar Masa and he had given the waiter their order, "I am aware that Elizabeth is—"

"A train wreck of the first order." He bristled at that assessment. "Really, where did you find her? I hope for your sake that she's sings better than she looks, because otherwise I don't know how she's going to be profitable for you. Did you feel her hands? What has she been doing with them, using them on a cheese grater? Those fingernails! And I'm literally afraid of what she's hiding in those boots." She sipped from the champagne she had requested.

Was this a mistake? Darcy was beginning to think it was. "If you think this project is beyond your ability and you don't think you can get her ready in time –"

"Oh, no! You know I'll work a miracle for you." Suzzanne licked her lips suggestively. "I can't have her wandering around town, ruining the Darcy brand, can I?"

Elizabeth would hardly ruin their brand. It was time Suzzanne understood. "Elizabeth Bennet is going to end up being the face of Darcy Records."

Suzzanne looked confused. "Really? You think she is going to be a major hit?"

He did. Darcy knew as soon as the first song hit the airwaves her popularity would spread like a forest fire. Her voice would burn into the collective and climb the charts. After putting her out onto the world stage, he really wouldn't have to do anything at all. Except reap the benefits.

Suzzanne seemed to realize he was not going to clarify and continued in a more respectful tone. "Well, I hope you're doing something about her weight. It is a concern. She's what—a size 12 or 14—it's going to be difficult to find any upscale designers that carries that size. I hope you have her taking diet pills. Though, I have a friend who lost loads on Ecstasy."

Darcy's hackles rose. Elizabeth had better never resort to taking drugs. He'd only heard good things from Esme about Dr. Tanner, which was why he was prepared to pay that man's exorbitant fees. He wanted her healthy in mind, body and spirit. However, he told himself, Suzzanne would not be doing her job if she had not referenced the weight issue. Had he not himself had concerns?

"And, of course," Suzzanne continued, "I need to know how much you are giving me to work with her. I have to budget for wardrobe and incidentals."

"Your services and the purchases will be made with the corporate account." Her sea green eyes widened perceptively. He usually kept her budget under close scrutiny, but Elizabeth needed so many things. "What's important is that she needs to be happy with the purchases you make. I want her comfortable with every piece of her new wardrobe."

"An entire wardrobe?" Suzzanne lowered her champagne flute in surprise. "Not just pieces for a tour?"

"That's right. She needs everything from outerwear to—" He stopped talking as his mind raced ahead of him creating a smiling Elizabeth lounging in his bed in a black, lacy bra and matching panties holding a whip. He wondered again if she liked to give or receive pain. Realizing his distraction, he forced the image from mind. "Shoes. She'll need shoes, and work out gear, casual wear and formal wear to get started. She frankly needs everything. I want the best quality money can buy."

"I see. You know, I'll have to hire a personal shopper if you expect all of this done in such a short time." He hadn't expected that, but accepted it might be a necessity. She ran a finger along the lip of her flute. "Any special incentives?"

"If you can have the primary needs of her wardrobe in place within two weeks, I'll double your retainer as a bonus."

"That's nice, Will," she rubbed her hand over his, "but that's not exactly what I was hinting at. How about I have her ready ahead of schedule, and we go away for a long weekend?"

Darcy pulled his hand back as slowly as he could so as not to insult her. However, he had to stop this notion of hers before it went any further. "Suzanne, I hope you understand that I'm not interested in picking up where we left off a few summers ago."

"That's a pity. We were pretty good together, if you remember."

He didn't. Not really. "Working with Elizabeth will consume all my free time for the foreseeable future." He needed to make sure Suzzanne really understood. "I need your focus, like mine will be, to be on her. And only her."

"Only on her?" The blonde smiled regretfully at him before tilting her glass in his direction. "I guess I'll just have to satisfy myself with your profitable business offer."

Suzzanne could always be counted on to do what was in her best interest. "One more thing. Her hair. You didn't see it because she wore it up today, but it's—" He paused, searching his vocabulary for the right adjective, then saying slowly, "Perfect. It's absolutely perfect the way it is. I don't want a hair on her head changed."

"It's perfect? "

"Yes." He felt odd catch in his chest and took a deep breath, "I hope you know this is not going to be a short assignment. I'll need to retain your services for months, possibly years, to help fill out her wardrobe for pieces as she loses weight, as styles change, and for the events she's invited to. It's very important to me that she isn't plastered on any of those idiotic _Not Hot_ or _Worst Dressed_ lists." He thought they were foolish, but he had seen how the public criticism had hurt his sister when she had a rare fashion missteps in her teens. He was determined to spare Elizabeth such awkwardness. She was fragile. Sensitive. "It's important to me that she feel good about herself. That she feels beautiful and confident at all times. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Will. You can count on me." The stylist's smile had turned brittle. " I know exactly what to do. Just leave it up to me."


	5. Chapter 5 Part 1

I have not given up on TJP. I actually have been trying to come up with the next logical sequence of events and I am not happy where the characters are going right now. Darcy is being a jerkedy jerk face and will not listen to reason. I am not writing GOF either - I am actually posting what I wrote about a year ago. I'm still stuck on Chapter 10 - which will get here in no time. Chapter 5 was really large so I broke it up into two separate sections. I am still fiddling with some dialogue but hope to post that later this week so you won't have to wait to next Sunday.

Thanks to the bestest editor - you know who you are!

My Fibby has approved this, so it can be posted. We might have to split Rob Thomas down the middle vertically - you made an excellent point about him singing - I was being short sighted when I said the bottom half. You are always more practical than I.

 **Girl On Fire**

Chapter 5 Part 1 Follow Your Dreams

"Don't you find it odd," she continued, "that when you're a kid, everyone, all the world, encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you're older, somehow they act offended if you even try."  
― Ethan Hawke, _The Hottest State_

 _ **Ring. Ring. Ring.**_ Exhausted, Elizabeth rolled over on her side and blinked in disorientation. It had been a late night at _The Hole. A very late night._ Her head pounded. She may have over done it a little. It was hard to say no when several of their regular customers were determined to buy her a celebratory drink. And, Malcolm never missed an opportunity to party.

 _ **Ring. Ring. Ring.**_ _What was that strange sound?_ It was her cell phone, she realized dully. Her eyelids flicked to the object — a cell phone that was way out of reach — all the way in the kitchen. She considered getting up to answer it, but then rejected the idea.

 _ **Ring. Ring. Ring.**_ She glanced at her alarm clock in confusion. It was six thirty. A.M. As in the morning. No one who knew her would honestly expect her to answer at such an obscene hour.

 _ **Ring. Ring. Ring.**_ Then, silence. Sweet Silence. It must have been a wrong number. Snuggling deeper in the covers, she turned on her side trying to find that perfect spot in her comfy pillow again.

 _ **Ring. Ring. Ring.**_ Her eyes flipped open. This could not be happening. Her cell phone cried mournfully to be put out of its misery.

Frustrated, she flipped back her comforter in annoyance, stomped the two steps to her kitchen and squinted in disbelief at the caller ID. _William Darcy_? What could he possibly want at this time of day? Her phone rang again in her hand. He seemed like an intelligent man - did he not understand the point of voicemail?

She swallowed back the curse words she wanted to use and opted for a less offensive greeting, "Hello!"

"Elizabeth? Oh, good you're up." She winced. It was worse than she ever could imagine. Will Darcy was a morning person. She could tell by the energy in his voice. "You don't want to be running late on our first day."

"Late? For our meeting that is more than two hours away?"

She eyed her bed lovingly as he yammered on about something, sounding suspiciously like the teacher from the Charlie Brown's cartoon. She consulted the clock in her kitchen, decided that she didn't need to get up until eight, or eight-thirty if she skipped a shower, and finally she cut him off. "Look, can we do this at nine?"

Without waiting for an answer, she hung up on him. Just in case he got any bright ideas about calling back, she pre-emptively switched the phone to vibrate, then crawled back into bed.

When she stumbled out of her building precisely at the appointed time, she found him waiting on the sidewalk in front of her building holding a large vented cup of coffee. Thankfully, Darcy was wise enough to let her enjoy her beverage in peace instead of talking. By the time her brain had absorbed enough sweet caffeine to be functional, they had pulled up in front of a large four-story building she assumed held the dietician's office.

When Sal, his driver, opened her door, Elizabeth's worst fears were realized when Darcy exited with her. She just knew he planned on being present for each and every mortifying second of her appointment with the dietician.

To her vast relief, Dr. Tanner had other ideas. "Perhaps you misunderstood me when we discussed providing services to Ms. Bennet, Mr. Darcy, but I insist her sessions will be private."

Darcy was the picture of relaxed confidence. "I can assure you they will be."

Dr. Tanner, a balding white man in his early sixties, did not seem to be intimidated by the powerful man sitting by her side in the slightest. "Unfortunately, young man, that means the session will be between me and my patient. Only. You're more than welcome to wait for her in the lobby."

"Perhaps you don't understand. Ms. Bennet has signed a contract giving me permission to attend her appointments. I've already faxed the documents to your office. If you have lost them, I can call my secretary and have another provided if you would like."

"Release or no release, I don't work that way. I'll not divulge her information to you. If you can't live with that, perhaps, you should look for someone else. If Ms. Bennet wishes, she's free to discuss her meetings with you. That is the only way you will know anything about what transpires in this office."

Elizabeth thought that this might not be so bad when Darcy capitulated and left for the waiting room. She had to admit she liked what she'd seen so far of Dr Tanner. She was a realist and didn't want to get too attached to the dietician because she was quite sure that while her new boss was cooling his heels in the reception area he was also busy trying to find someone else to replace her new doctor.

It wasn't long before Dr. Tanner focused his attention on her. He had a great bedside manner and he entertained her with stories of when he had come to New York, at about her age, from Illinois and the culture shock he had experienced whilst he documented her measurements and weight. His capable nurse, she discovered, was his wife of twenty-five years who assisted him drawing her blood for a full spectrum workup including blood sugar, cholesterol and a thyroid panel. The remainder of the first meeting was devoted to discussing what she hoped to achieve, what foods she used as a crutch and when she felt the need to eat them.

In the end, she admitted what was bothering her the most, "Dr. Tanner, I am never going to be stick thin like he wants me to be."

"Like who wants?"

"Will." She shrugged. "I'm never going to be one of those women who are waifs and when they turn sideways you miss them."

"The point is Elizabeth, what do you want for yourself?" Dr. Tanner leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers. "It is your body. Your skin. What do you want for yourself? You have to be happy with yourself before you could ever make anyone else happy. That includes Mr. Darcy."

She nodded at the words of wisdom. Deep down she knew they were true.

"Remember, Lizzy, it is you standing in the spotlight. No one else. It is you who has the guts to face an audience and share yourself. You have more spunk than you are giving yourself credit for. Will you ever be Twiggy?" He sighed, shaking his head. "No, you won't. But then again, that would not be healthy weight for you. The goal is for you to be healthy. It is a balancing act."

She nodded again, tearing up. She had let herself go. She had sabotaged her own body the last couple of years.

His parting words were, "Remember, you didn't gain all the weight in one night, so it'll take time to remove it. Consistent small changes will yield large rewards. You just have to be patient."

She could be patient. She was not so sure about her new employer.

Rejoining Darcy in the lobby after she had scheduled her next appointment, Elizabeth had to give him credit. Not once did he mention Dr. Tanner or being kicked out of his office. Darting a look at him in the lobby, she knew that it wouldn't take someone with the resources he had long to locate a replacement with less inflexible ethical standards. When they reached the car, she had to know. "Exactly how many other dieticians did you call while you were waiting? Five or six?"

The answer took two blocks. "It was only four. It would've been six if the other two had answered their damn phones. What is it with people not answering their phones when I call them this morning?"

Elizabeth laughed heartily at his honest answer. He looked surprised for a moment, then shook his head ruefully. Feeling charitable, she gave him an abridged version of her first meeting, concluding with how very much she looked forward to working with Dr. Tanner in the future.

He drummed his fingers along the arm rest, then crossed his arms across his chest. "And just how much of his appeal is that he put me in my place?"

Caught thinking the very same thing, she nibbled on her lower lip to stop herself from laughing again. "How about we agree it's not his _only_ appeal?"

He chuckled. Damn, but the man had a laugh that could melt butter!

Their next stop was in front of a building that looked like a giant glass Rubik's cube. A prominent sign with two people pumping bar bells identified it as New York Fitness. Darcy stepped out of the car, turned, and extended a hand to her to help her out.

"Since Dr. Tanner came highly recommended by a person I respect a great deal and since you seem to like him so much, I guess it can't hurt for you to continue working with him. As long as working with him gets results, I don't need to know everything you two talk about."

Relieved she would not have to be mortified by Darcy's presence at the meetings, Elizabeth relaxed somewhat. He placed a hand on her waist, ushering her inside the gym. Within seconds of their arrival, they were greeted by a young ginger-haired man, with deeply freckled skin and large biceps, named Pike. The little gold badge in the form of a dumbbell identified him as the manager. After apologizing for making them wait, which tickled her greatly since he almost met them at the front door, the burly man wasted no time in leading them on a private tour of the facilities.

The place had everything—cycling, aerobics, Pilates and more trendy things like Booty Barre, an Olympic-size pool, an indoor running track, three floors of various workout equipment and rows of treadmills. It was teaming with fit and sweaty people who looked as if they were born on the equipment they were using. Quickly, Elizabeth was overwhelmed.

After the tour concluded, Pike led them back to his office. "These are the trainers that meet the basic criteria we discussed yesterday, Mr. Darcy." A thick binder was passed from the manager to Darcy who handed it to her unceremoniously.

Without a word, Darcy settled himself behind the manager's desk as if it were his own, took out his cell phone and began working on responding to emails he had received while they were touring the facility. Pike looked comical, like a loser in a game of musical chairs, as he glanced longingly at his desk. Finally, he slunk away, presumably to manage something somewhere else in the gym.

Left to search on her own, Elizabeth felt unequal to the task. What did she know about the qualifications for a trainer? Who would be the best for her? Each beefy and deeply tanned Mr. Olympia wannabe was larger than the man who preceded him in the book. None seemed someone she could see herself being comfortable around.

To hide her insecurity, Elizabeth relied on her humor. "I think we might need to investigate. I think there's some serious steroid use going on here. It's a shame too. You know what it does to their libido."

When Darcy did not comment, she glanced up and realized that he was not attending to her at all. Forehead puckered in concentration, his lips compressed into a thin line of displeasure as he tapped out a message on his cell. She might have been one of the potted plants out in the lobby for all he knew or cared.

Bored with her project, she opened the book to a random page to the picture of a very attractive and fit African American man who wore a tiny Speedo decorated with a sequined American flag. Well, he at least must have a sense of humor. "I guess this one."

Looking away from his cell, Darcy took one glance at the trainer she selected, gave her an inscrutable look and then said in a voice that would not brook argument, "No. Absolutely no male trainers."

Putting his phone away, he flipped to the back of the book where Elizabeth was surprised to see female trainers. He settled quickly on an athletic blonde close to her age named Sierra Kelly. He pressed a button on the desk phone and notified Pike they were ready. The manager returned and Darcy informed him of their selection.

"You mean _your_ selection," Elizabeth said, a little miffed.

Pike looked from one to the other before giving his attention fully to Darcy. "What date and time should I tell Sierra to be available?"

Before she could give both men a piece of her mind, Elizabeth barged out of Pike's office. She made it exactly four steps into the lobby before she felt Darcy grab her arm roughly to stop her.

Remembering another man from another time who had put his hands on her, she jerked back from him, adopting a defensive posture, hands balling up and rising. "Don't you touch me!" Elizabeth shouted, then recovered herself quickly. She was still angry but lowered her arms. "How could you treat me like that? Like my opinion does not matter at all."

"I gave you an opportunity to choose and you chose poorly. If the choice is between All American Girl and Urban Captain America, then, yes, we're going forward with my selection." He glanced around obviously mindful of their surroundings. His voice was low and emotionless. "Like it or not, you agreed in your contract that I get to make the final decision with regards to your trainer."

"Is that so?" She glared at him defiantly, not caring that some of the nearby patrons were staring at them. "Fine. I'll pay for my own trainer."

"If you insist, you can pay for whatever expenses you want. I'm sure the man you selected will happily make time for you for any _extra_ workouts you want to schedule. However, that doesn't change the fact that I get to make the final decisions with whom you work. As per your contract, your dietician, your stylist and your trainer are all _**my**_ employees." He took her by the elbow and steered her outside. He took a deep breath before stating, "Contrary to what you think, your opinion does matter to me. When it makes sense. Did I not listen to you with regards to Dr. Tanner? "

She didn't feel like being appeased just yet. "Why doesn't it make sense for me to have a male trainer?"

"It's simple. I'm not paying a man to flirt with you when I need a trainer focused solely on your conditioning."

Of course, he would believe he'd have to pay a man to flirt with her! No man could be attracted to her otherwise, right? Deflated, Elizabeth did not even know why she was fighting with him over this. If she had bothered to look further, she would have discovered the women in the back of the book on her own, and would have more than likely selected one for herself anyway. At least the one he selected appeared normal, not a creature from the Steroid Lagoon, and she was near her age so they might have some things in common.

"I'm sure Sierra and I will get along just fine," she admitted begrudgingly. "Who knows, by this time next week, maybe we will be each other's newest BFFs."

"Elizabeth, this is not a joke." He pointed at her. "You will take your health seriously, even if I have to be present for each and every one of your workouts. I insist you focus as hard on this as you will our music. It's just as important. Do you understand?"

She nodded solemnly suddenly feeling guilty. Darcy was only trying to make decisions for her that he felt would make her successful. He was the experienced one in this process. "If you haven't guessed, I'm not really a morning person."

"You? Not a morning person? You hide it so well." She laughed at his teasing. Then, there was that smile again. Just as quickly, as if he realized he was smiling, he stopped. He got the same strange look from the day before when they signed the contract. His serious, no nonsense look. "Look, you're not used to all of this, and our partnership will require compromises from each of us from time to time." Consulting his watch, he searched the street. "We should have enough time to grab lunch before we have to meet with Paul at the studio."

Not able to think of a plausible excuse not to join him, Elizabeth followed him to a bistro nearby that had a wide variety of sandwiches, soups and salads. What she really wanted was a juicy hamburger and fries, her normal comfort food, but, conscious of the disapproval such an order would garner, she ordered a sensible salad with light dressing and water. He ordered the same.

While they waited, Darcy leaned forward, "You said you were going home for Thanksgiving. Do you have much family back home?"

"Yes. There are my parents and my three sisters. I also have a collection of about forty cousins, aunts and uncles that always seem to descend at our house. Never a dull moment, especially around the holidays. I can't wait to see them all again."

"Sounds like Richard's side of the family." Their order arrived and he prodded, "Tell me about your sisters."

She knew he couldn't possibly be interested in her siblings, but Elizabeth humored him anyway. "Nearest to me in age is Mary. She's more serious than anyone has any right being at twenty-four. She wants to be a minister. Trust me, even as a kid, she liked sermon making."

Another hint of a smile graced his lips. "And your other sisters?"

"Lydia and Kitty. Kitty is a senior at UC. She's like you, trying to please my dad by doing something she doesn't like." His eyebrows shot up at this pronouncement and she clarified. "She's studying Early Childhood Education, but what she really wants to be is an artist. She's been painting since she was old enough to put her finger into the stuff. And, she's very good." Relaxing, she told him about the time Kitty decorated the living room drapes when she was seven. The paint was a hideous green and the curtains were white. Elizabeth had tried to salvage them by washing them before her mom found out, but her intervention had ended up turning them the color of pea soup. Her father had hung the curtains in her bedroom as punishment until she made enough money babysitting her monster cousins to buy a new pair. "Green curtains still give me nightmares."

Darcy laughed at her story, and she felt more comfortable, encouraged by his reaction. "And, Lydia is the baby. My father completely ignores her and my mother absolutely dotes on her. The result, as you can imagine, is that she's a real nightmare. It doesn't help that she is at that age—you know the one, between thirteen and eighteen—when you think you know everything, but are too stupid to realize you don't."

"Ah, I remember those years with Georgie. Fun times." He chewed slowly, thoughtfully. "You clearly love your sisters, but I suspect, you're not as close to them as you were to Jane."

The breath was knocked out of her for a moment. "Jane was more than a sister to me. She was my best friend. She knew me better than anyone." It had felt those first few months like she had been missing a limb—alternating rounds of numbness and pain.

He looked down at his plate for a moment. "I think losing my sister would devastate me."

"Georgie looks a little like Jane. All blonde hair and blue eyes. Delicate." Elizabeth sighed, "But, my sister was an absolute angel. I don't think I'll ever forgive God for taking her from me."

Darcy's eyes hardened, "I felt the same way when my parents died."

"How old were you when it happened?"

"Thirteen, when my mom passed." Elizabeth looked, really looked, at the man before her trying to imagine the damage such a blow would cause a teenage boy. "I was twenty-one when my father died. Massive heart attack. He was stubborn and thought he knew more than his doctors. The week Georgie turned fourteen I became her sole guardian."

Well, one thing was apparent, her lunch companion wasn't just angry at God. He was angry at his father too, for not attending to his health. No wonder he was fit as a fiddle. "That must have been some type of adjustment for you and your sister."

He shrugged, noncommittally.

"No special woman in your life at that time to help you with your sister?"

He stared at her for a long moment. "No, there was no one special. Then or now."

Elizabeth waited for him to ask her if she was dating someone. It would have been the polite thing to do in a conversation, but he did not ask, further reinforcing her belief that he thought she couldn't get a man. Losing her appetite suddenly, she covered the remains of her salad with her napkin signaling she was done. Darcy asked for the check, paid it promptly, and then escorted her back to Sal.

In silence, they drove back to Darcy Building for the awaited auditions. Anxious to hide her preference, Elizabeth tried to mask her enthusiasm for _The Hole House_. While the musicians Paul picked out were technicians at their craft, there was a familiarity with her band that the other professionals lacked. Simply put, she sounded better jamming with her friends than she ever could performing with strangers. There was a trust between them that could not be concealed. Paul agreed with her, but Darcy seemed unconvinced.

As he drove her back to _The Hole_ after the auditions, he suggested, "We should have you work with the group Paul put together a few hours this week to make a fair assessment."

Elizabeth was convinced that wouldn't be necessary. She tried to be persuasive, bragging on her group's abilities and their flexibility to play any genre of music that Darcy selected for her to do. Quickly, she saw that she was not winning him over and wondered aloud, "It's almost like you are determined to not like them."

"I don't have an opinion one way or the other. I don't make business decisions based on emotion." Frowning deeply, she crossed her arms and sulked on her side of the seat. He shut his eyes muttering something, and then he retrieved his phone. "Paul, it's Will. We'll go forward with _The Hole House_ for the time being. Can you have them ready for the date we agreed?"

When they pulled up to _The Hole_ , Elizabeth scrambled out the door Sal held open for her, not able to wait to tell her friends. Then, she stopped suddenly, hugged the driver impulsively, giggling happily before turning back to a stunned Darcy. Leaning back into the car, she kissed his cheek and felt him stiffen in disgust.

"You won't regret this." She pulled back from him, excited by his unexpected agreement. "Come to _The Hole_ tonight. I want you to hear the song we've been working on. I promise you won't be disappointed."

*(*

Elizabeth watched with trepidation as the house filled up quickly. Darcy wasn't here. She tried to temper her disappointment with the fact he hadn't exactly promised her that he would come. She'd been too thrilled by his agreement to permit _The Hole House_ perform on the CD to secure it from him. It was ironic she admitted to herself. The last time she'd known he was in the audience she had not wanted him there. Now she couldn't wait to see him again.

Then, as if conjured by her wish, Darcy arrived. He was deep in discussion with Phillip at the door, before he slid into a booth near the bar. She was pleased to see he wasn't alone. He had brought Richard and a petite woman with long black hair who took the free seat next to the handsome attorney.

Anxious to make sure everything was in place, Elizabeth took the stage as soon as the previous act exited. She wanted their first public performance of the Howie Day song, _Collide_ _1_ , to be perfect. She selected it because it highlighted all of the band's strong suits. It showcased Tara's prowess on the guitar and Doty's singing on backup vocals. In addition, during Sunday's rehearsal, Ricky had made the brilliant suggestion they turn the song into a duet. She bullied Max who had a very nice baritone voice into singing it with her.

"He's here," she told the band enthusiastically as she took the stage.

"So, what?" Max responded.

It was a stroke of exceptional bad luck that Max and Darcy seemed to have an innate dislike for one another. In the studio, Darcy had stopped them more than once because _the bassist_ was overpowering or rushing the music. Already sensitive to the fact he had to audition for a job he already had, Max dealt with the criticism with increasingly decreasing patience.

"Give him a chance." Elizabeth begged him. Her friend ran his nimble fingers over his strings making sure they were taut and ready. She touched his arm. "For me?"

Max looked at her deliberately. "I'll do it for you, but you have to know he's a jerk. He was completely out of line today. We sounded great and everyone knows it."

"Darcy hears great every day. He's looking for extraordinary." Even though she agreed with Max's assessment, she knew she was biased. Darcy definitely had more knowledge of what success sounded like than any of them did. "He's really not so bad, once you get to know him better."

"I'll have to take your word on that," Max said, adjusting his microphone before moving close to her. "He obviously seems to want to get to know _you_ better. Since when did producing a record require going to the doctor with you? To the gym? It makes no sense, Lizzy."

Doty clacked her drum sticks together to signal the beginning of the countdown for their opening song. It reminded Elizabeth to get back on task. After Tara started the familiar guitar riff and Ricky took care of the violin effects with his keyboard, Max looked to her and nailed the intro.

"The dawn is breaking. A light shining through. You're barely waking and I'm tangled up in you. Yeah." He cocked an eyebrow in her direction before giving her a slow smile. In that moment, he transformed into the epitome of a sexy lead singer, bass hanging loose around his neck, one hand draped around his microphone as if it were a woman.

She sang to the audience. "But I'm open, you're closed. Where I follow, you'll go. I worry I won't see your face light up again."

Their voices merged on the chorus.

"I'm quiet, you know." He laughed outright as if she was really describing herself, then she continued, "You make a first impression."

He crooned directly at her. "Well, I've found I'm scared to know you're always on my mind."

"Even the best fall down sometimes. Even the stars refuse to shine. Out of the vacuum you fall in time. I somehow find, you and I collide."

"Don't stop here." Max sounded almost pained, and a woman catcalled from the audience. "I lost my place."

Elizabeth voice was sultry as she answered back. "I'm close behind." Another catcall from the audience.

When they finished _Collide_ , Max wrapped her in a tight hug of relief twirling her in the air as the crowd clapped enthusiastically. When he put her back down, he grabbed her microphone, beaming, "The one and only Elizabeth Bennet, folks!"

The audience responded favorably. Laughing, Elizabeth curtsied before she launched into one of three original songs in succession. They finished with her most recent newly written _Things I Never Had_ about growing up poor but with the things that people truly should value - respect, love of family _._ By the time she sang the chorus for the second time, the crowd was singing along with her. Done, she surrendered the stage for the band to back the next performer. It had taken some convincing but Elizabeth made Malcolm and Phillip name a different group as the headliner when she signed with Darcy. Someone else deserved to have their moment.

Rushing to remove her makeup but deciding to keep her dress on, Elizabeth could not wait to hear Darcy's opinion of _Collide_. She wanted the song on her album. Tonight confirmed it. In fact, it was going to be her first selection. In her excited haste, Elizabeth made a beeline to his table. She dropped into the chair next to him, electrified by the performance. Not able to wait any longer, she asked, "Did you like the duet?"

"No, I can't say I did." Without looking at her, he emptied the contents of his drink in one gulp. He held up the glass and nodded to Daisy who went to get him a refill. He seemed far away. "Tell me. Did Max mess up the lyrics or was the change intentional?"

"What change?"

"He sang, 'I'm scared to know _you're always_ _on my_ mind' when the correct lyric is 'I'm scared to know _I'm always_ _on your_ mind.'"

"I hadn't noticed," Elizabeth admitted. Darcy chuckled meanly. She straightened in her chair, becoming defensive, "Cut him some slack. It was Max's first time singing the song live. He was a little nervous."

"Which is why I have concerns about not only him but all of the members of _The Hole House_ backing you. They don't have enough professional experience. If they can get rattled in front of a few hundred people, what are they going to do in front of thousands?" When he got the drink he requested, Darcy threw it back, grimaced and shook his head. He added the empty glass to the three already in front of him. "I won't put a substandard product on the market with my label on it." His blue eyes flared. "Even for you."

Elizabeth felt the eagerness she had earlier to see him vanish in the face of such a response.

"I think Will is probably the only person here who noticed the mistake." Richard said, obviously trying to deflect some of the sting of Darcy's criticism. He wrapped an arm around the lovely woman at his side, who was eyeing her with open curiosity. "Elizabeth, let me introduce you to my wife. Esme, our newest act, Elizabeth Bennet."

"I don't know much about music, but I thought _Collide_ was great!" Esme seconded her husband's opinion, giving him a quick peck on his cheek. "In fact, when we leave here, I intend to get very tangled up in my man."

Abruptly, Darcy stood up and without excusing himself left the table. Elizabeth rose to follow him, but Richard put a staying hand on her arm. "Let me go." Kissing his wife on her cheek, he whispered something in her ear and then went after his mercurial cousin.

"Why do I feel like I did something wrong?" Elizabeth asked, watching the men exit the club.

"You shouldn't feel that way. Will's been rather temperamental for the past few months. It is really surprising when you consider he is usually as steady as a board. I've known him for six years now and I've never seen him act the way he has been lately." Esme sipped her drink, somehow believing Darcy's distress was funny. Richard's wife added, "My husband and Georgie are starting to get quite worried."

Elizabeth was confused by this woman's reaction. If Darcy were her family, she wouldn't think it was funny to see him like this. 'Is there something wrong with the business?"

"No, business is really good. Trust me, Richard would've told me if it wasn't. No, I think what's bothering Will is very personal. I suspect a woman might be involved." Esme winked. Elizabeth glanced behind her again. Will Darcy was hung up on some woman? Unlikely. And the same woman for months? That seemed even less likely. Esme pulled the umbrella from her drink and twirled it between her fingers. "Don't listen to Will. Your duet was hot as hell."

"Did you really like it?"

"Yes, I really did." Esme bit into her pineapple garnish. "What about you and the guy? Are you two dating?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, we're just really good friends."

"Never tried for anything more with him?" Esme persisted, licking her fingers.

She shrugged. "We did go out once."

"And?" She leaned forward, clearly interested in the answer to the question.

"And, nothing," Elizabeth admitted. It would have been so easy with Max. They were friends, and got along great. He was easy going and a fan of her music. Plus, he thought she was pretty. "We kissed once, but there was absolutely no chemistry between us."

"Ah, and we both know there needs to be chemistry." Esme glanced at the stage where Max was still playing.

Elizabeth decided she liked the woman across from her. "So what do you do, Esme?"

"I'm a psychologist." Elizabeth grimaced and her new acquaintance laughed. "Did you like Dr. Tanner?" She realized Richard's wife must have been the one to refer the amiable dietician to Darcy. After sharing the story of her first appointment, Esme was wiping at her eyes. "You are hilarious. I hope you can teach Will to loosen up and laugh at himself."

Elizabeth seriously doubted any one laughed at Darcy, at least to his face, and said so earning another laugh from Esme. "Oh, I'm going to like having you around, Lizzy!"

Daisy stopped by to see if their drinks needed to be refilled. Elizabeth was grateful for the distraction. "So, tell me, how did you and Richard meet?"

Esme told Elizabeth that she was on the board of one of the small private schools in the area, and Richard had attended their annual fundraiser. "I'll never forget when I saw him coming into the ballroom in his tuxedo. He literally took my breath away, and he never gave it back. It was love at first sight for me."

"And for him?"

A different type of smile curled Esme's lips. "We've been together since that night."

They fell into an easy discussion about music, men and medicine until an apologetic Richard returned some time later, alone, to collect Esme. Feeling disappointed that Darcy had left, and had left without saying goodbye, Elizabeth thanked them both for coming to see her performance.

As Richard helped his wife with her coat, he pointed a finger at her. "You, young lady, need to make an early night of it." He looked meaningfully at the stage which confused Elizabeth. She wasn't going back on. "Will has a big day planned for tomorrow. He wanted me to remind you that he'll be by your apartment to pick you up first thing in the morning."

*(*(*

Promptly at six-thirty the following morning, her cell phone sprang to life. Anticipating this possibility, she had moved the phone from the kitchen table to her night stand. She would not have to get up even if she was woken up.

"Elizabeth?" He didn't sound as chipper this morning and she wondered if he had a hangover. He deserved one if he did. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." She was still smarting by his abandonment the previous night. She could hear the sound of running water and curiosity got the better of her. "What are you doing?"

"Shaving. You?"

"Not shaving, obviously." She couldn't make him out for anything. "Well, if you must know, I'm doing what most normal people in New York are doing right now. I'm still contently curled up in bed."

She heard the water stop, heard a muffled sound and then he said, "On that little cot of yours? You must be all alone."

She hadn't been with a man since coming to New York, not that she'd ever admit that to him. It would only reinforce her undesirability. It was a statement that bore no additional comment. "Where'd you get to last night?"

"I needed some air." She wondered if perhaps he'd gotten sick. Being drunk and loud music was not a fun combination. No wonder Richard hadn't shared much information when he returned to pick up his wife. Darcy didn't say anything for a long time and she nearly nodded off. "Are you still there?"

She yawned. "Just barely. I worked last night, remember?"

"Your meeting with Sierra is today at ten. I'll pick you up a little after nine to make sure we can get uptown in time. Then, we'll grab some lunch. Maggie texted me yesterday that she has scheduled your appointments and Suzzanne should be getting in touch with you about your shopping expeditions." She was not looking forward to either meeting and groaned.

"Elizabeth, you agreed to this," He reminded unnecessarily.

She knew she had. Her obligations regarding her personal trainer and personal stylist were outlined in paragraph six and seven of Part B of the infernal contract she'd signed. She'd checked when she got home the previous night.

"I'll be there at nine. Make sure you're ready."

"Yes, Master!"

At the appointed time, she smiled gratefully at Sal who held the door open for her and handed her a coffee. Delighted, she slid into the dark interior of the town car and was immediately assaulted with Darcy's unique scent, a delicious mixture of woods and spice.

He was bathed in shadow. When her eyes adjusted, she saw he was indeed suffering the effects of his drinking last night. His hand was shielding his eyes from the bright morning sunshine.

When they arrived at the gym, Darcy excused himself immediately, heading for Pike's office to work on some documents. He looked unnaturally pale, and she suspected he needed to put his head on something solid with easy access to a waste basket.

Elizabeth waited fifteen minutes until Sierra arrived on time, and the manager introduced them. She was as advertised—beautiful, toned and fit with a genuine supportive and helpful go-get-'em attitude.

Their first session was spent introducing Elizabeth to the various pieces of equipment she would use during their workouts. Gasping after only ten minutes on a treadmill, she was forced to face the ugly truth when she had to stop to grab at her sides.

"Whew, I didn't realize I was so out of shape."

"Well, now that you know, Lizzy, what are we going to do about it?"

"Get into shape?" she panted weakly, hoping that was the right answer.

While she was working on her last set of chest pulls, Darcy re-emerged from the office looking as if he felt better and came directly to her side. He frowned. Elizabeth didn't know why he looked so; she was the one whose arms felt like they were burning from the inside out. To Sierra's back, he said, "Ms. Kelly, you shouldn't be pushing Elizabeth so hard on her first day. She needs to pace herself. It's been well over an hour."

"We're just finishing up," Sierra said turning.

Elizabeth was nearly pulled to the ground when her trainer let go of the counterweight. She couldn't blame Sierra. She wondered herself if there was any woman with a pulse who could look at William Darcy without reacting. Standing on her own, Elizabeth had never felt as particularly unattractive as she did standing next to the young trainer. She could feel the heat in her face, knew it was an alarming shade of red. Her comfy sweats were nothing compared to Sierra's fit, tight body encased in a matching black spandex bra and shorts. Not able to avoid it, Elizabeth introduced the woman to Darcy.

He nodded curtly, before he glanced quickly at his expensive watch. "I've got meetings the rest of the afternoon, so you'll have to meet with Suzzanne by yourself, but if we hurry, we can still have lunch together. I'll wait for you in the car while you clean up."

Sierra recovered the minute he was out of sight. "Jesus, that man of yours is a stunner."

"Oh, no. He's not my man. He's my producer."

"Uh huh." Her trainer handed her a towel as she led the way to the showers. "Believe me when I tell you that I'm not used to being completely ignored by a man."

"Will's just like that when you first meet him. He doesn't exactly make a very great first impression. Especially, when he opens his mouth." Elizabeth proceeded to amuse Sierra with the story of their meeting.

"How did he end up as your record producer?"

"That's a story for another day," Elizabeth said as she gratefully stepped under jets of hot water. She felt like a sweaty pig and lunch was beckoning.

For the next three days, she did not see Darcy in person, but she did continue to receive his six-thirty a.m. phone calls. On Friday when she entered the gym punctually at 10 a.m., Darcy was already there talking with Sierra. Waving at the two and not wanting to intrude on a private conversation, Elizabeth located a treadmill to begin warming up. She was still sore from the day before, and she knew the best cure for her stiff muscles was to get them moving again.

After she programmed her course into the electronic computer, she split her concentration between the belt moving beneath her feet and the blinking light tracking her progress on her monitor. It was still difficult for her to get her bearings on the high tech machine.

Darcy took the treadmill to her right. "Good morning, Elizabeth."

"Morning." Not even a minute on her machine and she was breathless. How pathetic! Turning on her iPod, she redoubled her focus on her goal. She was determined to go five miles today. Five miles on the _Alps_ setting. She hadn't gone a mile before the burn started in her thighs and sweat started accumulating on her forehead. She felt good watching her progress on the monitor. The blinking light going up and over the electronic peaks. She felt like the little guy going up the Alps game on the Price is Right.

After the treadmill, Elizabeth moved to working with weights, with Sierra spotting for her. Every time she looked up, no matter what equipment she moved to or what exercise they did, Darcy was just visible in her line of sight in the many mirrors at the establishment. His attention made her feel strangely discombobulated. Even more uncoordinated. Did he not think she would follow through on her contractual obligations? When she finished, she showered and dressed. Outside, she found him obviously waiting on her.

Waving off Sal, he opened the car door himself. "I thought we could go to lunch together and catch up." Before she could complain about being monitored so closely, her stomach growled at his suggestion. Without waiting for her agreement, he turned to Sal, giving him instructions to take them to Bar Marsa. They had reservations.

"No, I'd rather not go there." She resisted against his hand at her waist, wrinkling her nose at his suggestion. "I'm not a big fan of caviar, Will. Fish eggs. It's kinda disgusting."

His lips quirked, but then firmed. "Where would you like to go? I have some time this afternoon. Just name the place."

She thought on it some, then shrugged. "How about the place down the street?" It really didn't matter where they ate as long as it was soon. She was suddenly starving.

When they were seated in a sunny section of the bistro, the waiter from their previous visit materialized. He remembered them, probably because of Darcy's obscene tips and asked if they wanted the same order. Reluctantly, she agreed and tried not to whimper when the gentleman at the table next to her received the hamburger she really wanted.

Darcy noticed what drew her attention. "You worked hard today. Order what you want."

She was tempted. "No, I'll stick with the rabbit food. Dr. T gave me my test results yesterday and a full report on my cholesterol." Real concern spread over his face and she wondered if she had reminded him of his father. She tapped his hand reassuringly. "My numbers aren't that bad, but they are high enough for me to take them seriously and make some changes before there's a real problem. Besides, after the workout with Sierra, it would probably make me sick to eat something that heavy."

"You seem to like her."

"She's nice." Elizabeth moved the croutons she didn't like to the side and began organizing the perfect bite starting with the fresh cherry tomatoes. He watched her preparations with barely concealed interest. "She's coming to _The Hole_ tonight to hear me sing and meet the band. Then, we're supposed to go clubbing tomorrow night."

"Clubbing?" Darcy lowered his drink to ask the question. His water had been served in an expensive, pretty blue bottle. No plain Evian for him.

"I know you're ancient and all, but you remember what clubbing is. Don't act like you don't," she sassed him, enjoying the shock that played out on his face. Esme was right, he took himself entirely too seriously. "I think it'll be fun. Sierra's bringing Sam, and she's gonna introduce me to Kyle."

"Sam? Kyle?" The spot above his nose puckered.

"Sam is Sierra's boyfriend. He's some big shot attorney with a firm with a long name downtown somewhere. He makes loads of money or, so Sierra says. And Kyle is Mr. Urban Captain America."

"Is this like a double date?"

"More like a blind date, since I've never met Kyle and he's never met me."

"What about Max?"

"Max?" She popped a thin slice of cucumber in her mouth. "Max isn't coming with us." She was confused at his question and he didn't elaborate. "Well, anyway, Kyle's single, and lucky for me, he likes his woman with a little meat on their bones."

"A little meat?"

She stabbed her fork in her half-eaten salad. "Well, I guess, in my case, a lot of meat."

"That's not what I meant." He tapped a long finger on the table, clearly agitated about something. He sipped his water, then lowered the bottle again. "Are you planning on drinking on your date?"

She wondered if he was reacting this way from his recent experience. "I might. I've had a really rough week, and I need to unwind. I don't usually drink, so it doesn't take much to get a buzz going." His expression darkened. What the hell was she doing? Darcy was her boss. "Look, I'll be responsible. It's a first date. It's not like I'm trying to see Captain America's flag at full mast or anything."

He choked on his water. _Boss, Lizzy!_ While it was fun to push his buttons, she needed to remember that. When he recovered, he seemed concerned. "You have every day booked solid next week, and you're already tired from the late nights at _The Hole_. I have business out of town this coming week and won't be here to watch over you. Do you really think going out on Saturday makes sense?"

Elizabeth decided a subject change was needed in order to avoid a fight. "When do you leave for your trip?"

"Sunday." He frowned, "I'll be returning next Saturday."

"A business trip?" She chewed her lip, waggling her eyebrows playfully. "Or is it for pleasure?"

"Mostly business." He did not look enthusiastic. He looked like he was discussing an upcoming root canal rather than a vacation.

"Surely, it can't be all that bad. Maybe you'll have more fun than you think you will." He said nothing as he moved his salad around with his fork. He was sulking. "Where are you going?"

"London on Sunday, Paris on Tuesday, Rome on Wednesday."

"Oh, poor you!" Sometimes she forgot exactly how different their worlds really were. "That sounds like a dream vacation. I've never been out of the States, and I've always wanted to travel."

He looked at her with that strange look again. "Do you have a passport?"

"Yes, I got one in college. My best friend, Charlotte, and I were going to go backpacking through Europe after graduation. But, in the end, we didn't go. "

"Why didn't you go?"

"A man came along." Elizabeth popped the last cherry tomato in her mouth.

"I see. And, your new boyfriend wouldn't let you go?"

"Not mine." She rolled her eyes, "Charlotte met her fiancé our senior year, and she went with him instead. So, boo, no Europe for me. I still dream about going some day."

"If we rearranged some of your appointments, you could come with me on my trip."

She laughed at the very idea. Who knew? Darcy did have a sense of humor.

After lunch, he insisted on giving her a ride to her meeting with Suzzanne before he returned to the office. Along the way, he seemed strangely pensive. Not for the first time, she realized that Darcy was a private, complex man. His businesses extended beyond the record studio, and he had hundreds of employees that looked to him to keep food on their tables. It would only stand to reason he had troubles from time to time that she would never be able to comprehend.

When Sal opened her door, Elizabeth impulsively kissed Darcy's cheek lightly. He stiffened in disgust. Still, even with all of his idiosyncrasies, she felt she was beginning to think of him as a good friend.

"Have a safe trip, Will. I'll see you next week."

*(*

Trying in vain, Darcy could not sleep on Saturday night. He tossed and turned in his bed for hours when he admitted to himself what he really wanted to do was get in his car and camp out outside of Elizabeth's door until she arrived home. He just kept seeing that picture of the impressively built man from Pike's book. She was out with that. The thought of her out with some strange man—no, he corrected himself—the thought of her out drinking with that hulk of a man did something to his sanity. Somehow, he restrained himself patiently until six-thirty to call her, as usual.

"Will!" she complained loudly, and his heart literally skipped a beat. She wouldn't have answered his call if she was entertaining a man in her bed, right? "It's Sunday. Couldn't you have found someone else to pester this morning?"

"I tried Georgie first, but she hung up on me."

Her laugh was husky with sleep and extremely arousing. "Do you know nothing about women? You can't go around waking them at the crack of dawn and expect them to be pleased about it."

Darcy didn't know about that. The very few women he had spent an entire night with never complained if he woke them up. Instead of defending himself, he stated plainly, "I just need to make sure that you are on track for the week before I leave town."

As she provided him a rundown of her plans for the week, he fought the urge to bring up her date. He wondered if it was a violation of the trainer's contract to date a member. Maybe he should call Pike and voice his displeasure. As if she sensed his curiosity, Elizabeth said mournfully, "My date last night was a dud."

"Oh, that's right. You did mention something about going out last night. I'd forgotten." He shut his eyes, cursing himself. He'd laid it on too thick. "Why do think the date was a dud?"

"We really don't have much in common. The only topics Kyle seemed to have anything worth talking about were pumping iron, the Jets and the benefits of protein powders." The disappointment in her voice gave him relief. "Besides, he kisses like a fish."

He didn't want to think about how she obtained that information, but her description of the man's failings made him smile. "I didn't think your feelings about caviar extended to all seafood."

"I guess so!" Elizabeth giggled at his joke.

His mind conjured up what she would look like—her smile curling up the edges of her bow mouth snuggling on that little cot. If he were with her right now, he would have found a way to make them both fit in her tiny bed no matter how creative they had to be. He looked at his suitcase with even less interest and he contemplated canceling the trip all together.

"What are you doing today, Lizzy?"

"Sleeping in, first and foremost," she stated. "If I feel motivated, I might tackle some laundry. Probably not, though, since I'm meeting the fellas for lunch."

"The fellas?" _Please God, no more men!_ She seemed to attract them everywhere she went.

"Phillip and Malcolm—the owners of _The Hole_. Then I'm coming home and sleeping some more. I'm going to need to be rested for what Suzzanne has planned for us. Body waxing—I'm not exactly sure what that means, by the way—and I'm going to get my nails done. I'm looking forward to the pedicure, though. I love foot massages!" He'd massage anything she let him. "Oh, and on Tuesday, we're going shopping for six hours. I already dread it."

"Well, I'll see your beauty treatments and shopping and raise you an intervention with Salvatore on Monday."

It was all over the news that the young rocker had been arrested in London for urinating in a public street. Just the latest in a long line of increasingly erratic behavior from the young man. Darcy had just gotten off the phone with Salvatore's sweet mother who had asked him to join her and the family in trying to get her son back on the straight and narrow. He couldn't very well say no to her when she was in tears on the phone. He was going to London in the first place to organize the mess that had become Salvatore's tour. Two concert dates had to be rescheduled due to his recent bout of _exhaustion_. He hoped to get to spend at least a day at Pemberley before having to go on to Paris.

"That's very nice of you."

"I'm not doing it to be nice. It makes sense financially for me to rein him in. I need to protect the label."

"You can't convince me that's the only reason you're doing it. Don't bother even trying." There was no humor in her voice. "I'm sure if he doesn't now, he'll appreciate your efforts later." He shut his eyes. How could he miss her already when he hadn't even left yet?

Spending time with her would've been preferable to meeting with shareholders of the small winery he partly owned in France. Maybe they could have even gone on a tour of the winery. He'd love to expose her to his favorite vintages. Did she really need to spend the week with Sierra and Suzzanne? Yes, some changes were needed, he told himself, but nothing drastic. In fact, the more time he spent with Elizabeth, the more her little imperfections seemed to become charmingly perfect. Inexplicitly Elizabeth.

"You're going to Paris? I've always wanted to see the Louvre."

Because she was interested, for the next half hour, Darcy shared everything he could remember about his past trips to the famous museum with her. It surprised him how little, sadly, Elizabeth knew of the world. Part of him longed to complete her education, explore with her and see things anew through her eyes.

"It sounds amazing. Maybe I'll get to see it myself someday."

As tempted as he was, Darcy did not repeat his earlier invitation. The memory of the last time he'd asked was firmly on his mind. How could it not be? He'd never had a woman laugh outright in his face before when he asked them out.

1 Howie Day 'Collide'


	6. Chapter 5 Part 2

I will try to have Chapter 6 up by Sunday as usual (or at least part of it!). Thanks so much for the comments - keep them coming. Some of you have guessed various plot points some of you are way off base. It's fun to read your conjectures.

To My Fibby & My wonderful Beta - I can't wait to hear your critique of Chapter 6.

Chapter 5 Part 2

As Darcy anticipated it would, the week dragged by.

On Sunday, after he arrived in England, he had spent most of the day trying to get through to Salvatore and distance the singer from the unhealthy entourage who were keen on keeping him on the wrong path. Trying to convince the troubled singer that in light of his newest legal problems, it might be in his best interest to go into rehab was difficult with their interference. True to form, the stubborn singer refused to admit he even had a problem.

Darcy finally lost his temper. "You realize that you represent Darcy Records each and every time you participate in these antics. If you truly don't have a problem, you're just a bloody idiot. If you have a problem, you need help. Either way, I don't believe I can continue business with you. When I return to New York, I plan on enforcing the conduct clause of your contract. You'll need to find another label to represent you."

"You won't do that? You can't drop me? I'm Salvatore. I make you loads of money."

"Yes, but that is the best part about this, I already have loads of money. I don't necessarily need more." Darcy answered, slipping on his coat. "I've let this drama of yours take up enough of my valuable time. If you won't listen to the wisdom of your family and your real friends, there is no need for me to continue wasting my energy. I will have to say it is rather pathetic that someone with as much talent as you have would deliberately throw it all away with such antics."

He made it to his car and had his seatbelt engaged, when Salvatore banged on the car window. Darcy lowered it, strangely relieved.

"I need help." The young man looked lost. "What'll I have to do?"

They returned inside where Salvatore dismissed his entourage. When they were alone, Darcy handed the young singer a brochure and gave his mother another.

"I've made arrangements for your admission at the Promise Center tonight. It is a discreet facility. All in-patient. While there is no guarantee it won't leak to the press that you're there, they do have the best security of all the facilities I investigated. It is my hope that you can get the help you need without dealing with the aggravation of having the public involved."

Salvatore started crying, the mascara he insisted on wearing streaked down his cheeks. Finally, he nodded. "If, if I go, will Darcy Records drop me?"

"No, the label will stand behind you if you seek treatment." He told the boy. The young man was just a few years younger than Georgiana. So much talent and temptation to manage at such an age. "I will stand behind you if you are serious about doing this."

In the end, Darcy drove with Salvatore and his mother to the center to help him get settled.

It was much later than he wanted it to be, when he drove up the long winding entrance to Pemberley. Once there, his mind seemed alarmingly preoccupied with Elizabeth. He could not stop himself from envisioning her walking the trails that dotted the property with him, enjoying the dinner provided by his housekeeper, sitting next to him as he played on the grand piano. He could almost hear her laughter playing throughout the private rooms. Even the sight of the English countryside under a full, effervescent moon made him think of her.

"What are you doing today, Will?" she'd asked when he called her on Monday.

"I'm actually riding." From the ridge he could see his favorite vista of his estate. "There is no better place in the world for riding than Derbyshire. I don't get to spend as much time here as I'd like here."

"You should complain to your unfeeling boss that you need more time to vacation." She giggled. "Something tells me that he can be a real ball buster sometimes."

Darcy tried to explain he had a lot of demands on his time, but the more he thought about it, the more he had to concede she was right. Sometimes it felt like Darcy Records was running him and not the other way around.

"So, how did things go with your young friend?" She asked.

"He agreed to get help."

"I'm happy he recognized he needed help." Darcy frowned. He hoped Salvatore would stick with the program. Recovery was hard. Impossible if the person doing the steps did not want it for themselves. "And, I'm happy for you too. You seemed terribly worried about him."

"I was." He agreed, surprised to find it was true. "I was quite relieved when he agreed. He has such potential."

On Tuesday, he flew into Paris, and he had made the board of directors of his winery delay their meeting while he phoned Elizabeth. After successes with Dr. T and Sierra, he couldn't wait for her humorous stories about her shopping marathon. Everyone loved working with Suzzanne. "How did it go yesterday?"

"Not very well." There was a long pause on her end, before she asked, "I was wondering if it's possible to work with someone other than Suzzanne."

This was not the reaction he had expected. "Why?"

One of the board members had gotten up and was looking at him. Darcy waved he needed a few more minutes and pointed to his phone. When she did not answer him, he offered, "I imagine some of the choices she'll make for you seem different than those you would've chosen for yourself, but she is really the best at what she does. I wouldn't trust you in anyone else's hands. When she's done with you, you'll be transformed."

"Transformed?" Elizabeth sounded hurt at his word choice, and he felt his annoyance amplify. Why couldn't she understand that he was doing all of this for her? He didn't want her to be the victim of the vicious and capricious public.

"Elizabeth, most artists have professional stylists to help them with their image. It is something that you will just have to get used to, I'm afraid."

"Have you ever considered that maybe I am just beyond the help of a stylist?"

Her sadness bled through the phone. He should have stayed in New York. They should be having this conversation in person. This feeling of impotence combined with the unnatural longing to be in her presence frayed his temper. He snapped. "What do you expect me to do from here? I'm an ocean away from you right now. While I'm away, Suzzanne is in charge of making decisions about your style. You'll do as she tells you. That's the end of the discussion. Period. I won't entertain any further debate about it. Do I make myself clear?"

Elizabeth reluctantly agreed, but she didn't sound especially thrilled about it. Then, to his great disappointment, she made an excuse to get off the phone. Darcy returned to his meeting in a decidedly testy mood.

On Wednesday morning, he arrived in Rome.

When Darcy slid into the private car he arranged to pick him up at the airport, he was surprised, and yet at the same time not surprised, to find Aubrey Kissinger was waiting for him in the backseat. She wasted no time in sidling up to him and wrapping herself around him. Clearly, she expected a repeat of what they had in California just a few months earlier. And he'd been all for it—just a week ago when he made these arrangements. After engaging in heated kisses with the stunning actress, Darcy broke free from her, instructed the driver to take them to the hotel, which from the knowing smile she gave him seemed to suit her just fine.

After they arrived at the hotel, he had followed her to the room they were to share and used each and every excuse he could find, to put off the inevitable trip to the bedroom. She had even changed out of her revealing dress into something even more _comfortable_ about an hour earlier. With her robe open, the nightgown she wore left very little to the imagination. Yet he, uncharacteristically, resisted. More alarming was the fact he was not interested in the slightest by her forward overtures.

"Where are you?" Aubrey had asked him lunch. He knew what she was referring to.

"I've just had a lot on my mind lately." He glanced at his watch. With the time difference, it was almost six-thirty in New York. The thought of hearing Elizabeth's voice again, especially after yesterday's abbreviated call, made his heart leap in his chest. "On Monday, I'm producing a new CD."

"Oh? Is it someone I know?" She spread some caviar on a cracker. Elizabeth didn't like caviar.

"No, she's a new artist. I just signed her to the label." 

"She?" The beautiful actress pouted, before playfully adding, "Is she why you couldn't stay the weekend? Should I be jealous?"

Being here only cemented what he had begun to fear in New York. Elizabeth could demand his attention continents away while he was entertaining one of the most beautiful women in the world. _What in the hell was happening to him?_ He stood suddenly; hearing her voice on the phone was not enough. He needed to see her. "I'm sorry, Aubrey, I really am, but I need to get back to New York sooner than I expected."

"But, you just got here?" She stood with him. "Is this about your new little song bird? Well, I'm sure she's familiar with your rules by now, Will." She linked her arms around his neck, rubbing herself against him suggestively. "She'll just have to wait until you go back in a few days. I can have you now. She can have you when you go back. We all get what we want."

Darcy removed her arms from his neck, stepping back from her.

"Oh, this is just priceless." She made a crude sound in her throat. "I guess next you're going to tell me that we can't have sex because you think you're in love with this new fling of yours?"

No, not love. This couldn't be love. He felt nearly panicky at the thought.

"I didn't think so." The actress smiled at him, drawing a finger down his chest. "I want to do all manner of naughty things to you, Will. I've been fantasizing about you for weeks. I don't think I'm going to be satisfied until I taste every delectable inch of your body. I definitely can make you forget some silly ole' singer you just met. I promise you, I can."

Only, he knew she couldn't. There was nothing Aubrey could do to erase Elizabeth from his thoughts. Every time he shut his eyes, she appeared in his mind's eye. It was terribly distracting. He feared what name he'd call out when he climaxed. "I can't go to bed with you, Aubrey. I'm really sorry but, I can't."

Her eyes narrowed as she cinched the robe over her nightgown closed, hands on her hips. "What happened to you telling me that you enjoyed just having fun and messing around? That you never get involved?"

He couldn't formulate a response. He had never intended to become involved.

"Are you really going to leave and stand me up for my own premiere? It's tonight, Will. How could you do this to me?" Either Aubrey was a better actress than he'd previously given her credit for, or she was truly upset with his last-minute decision. "You could've called me and canceled. I would've made other arrangements. I'm going to be a laughing stock."

"I thought I could go through with this—" He stopped instinctively, knowing that adding to his explanation would only insult her. He ran a hand through his hair, finishing lamely, "I didn't think I'd feel this way."

"You can't just leave me in the lurch here, because you've suddenly grown soft over a woman. I've an image to maintain. You will attend the premiere with me and stay for the after party. You owe me that much at least."

He rubbed his temple. "I'm going down to the lobby and see about getting my own room for the night. What time do I need to collect you?"

After he secured his own room, Darcy was frustrated to see it was nearly one. He was late. He called Elizabeth and it rolled to voicemail. That hadn't happened since the first day he'd called her. He redialed and found himself getting angrier with each ring. Each one seemed like a pronounced avoidance.

When she answered on his fourth attempt, he was incensed. "Where have you been?"

"For your information, Mr. Grumpy, I was in the shower. I hope you're happy. Right now I'm dripping all over my carpet and there's soap still in my hair."

His mind had filled in all the blanks of what she would look like - her curvaceous body wet from the shower, soap sliding over glistening skin. Jesus, he was growing hard just thinking about her.

"Did you make it to Rome, all right?"

"Yes."

"See anything interesting?"

"No." The only thing Darcy was interested in seeing at the moment was her. In fact, he would have given anything he owned to be transported from his posh quarters to her horrible sweatbox of an apartment.

She laughed into the phone. "How could you be in one of the world's oldest cities and not see anything interesting? It takes quite a lot to impress you, William Darcy."

It did take a lot to impress him. But every day, she managed to do it effortlessly.

Elizabeth chatted merrily. She told him at length about her newest visit with Dr. T, her latest workout with Sierra and she talked about plans Malcolm and Phillip were making for their upcoming anniversary. None of the topics she spoke about were ones he would have chosen himself but hearing the witty commentary of her day was wonderfully soothing. He found himself relaxing as he listened to her filling him in on the minute details of her life. It made him feel close to her to have such insight.

It wasn't until much later at the after party while he was in the middle of a conversation with one of Aubrey's co-stars who was talking about the great dresses she found in a boutique that it dawned on him that Elizabeth had not mentioned one word about Suzzanne. Not a single, solitary one. But hadn't he instructed her not to? She had just followed orders.

When Darcy returned to his hotel room that evening, he called Elizabeth but she did not pick up. She was probably at _The Hole_ with her fellas _._ Frustrated, he called Suzzanne directly. She was happy to report that most of the services she had requested had been completed. Elizabeth had been given facial, skin treatments and had submitted to waxing. They'd spent most of Tuesday and the better part of the day shopping for her wardrobe. He informed Suzzanne that he would like to see her progress first thing on Monday. He felt marginally better after talking to the stylist but he could not ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that things were not going as well as Suzzanne had painted them.

On Thursday morning, as he was eating his breakfast and enjoying the _New York Times_ on his iPad, he found himself dismayed to find a picture of him and Aubrey plastered on the entertainment section under the headline - "William Darcy Walks Red Carpet with Aubrey Richardson at _Love's Eternal Embrace_ Premiere in Rome. Is Art Imitating Real Life?" It normally amused him to see himself being linked to one woman or another in the tabloids. This time, it grated.

He waited hours to account for the time difference before he tried Elizabeth's line. Only, she didn't answer at twelve-thirty, or one, or one-thirty. Throughout the afternoon, his feelings of uneasiness grew each time he tried her line. Every call he made went directly to voicemail. No matter how many times he tried she would not pick up.

It was the final straw.

By mid-afternoon his patience was exhausted, he called Maggie.

"I'm cutting my trip short. I should be back in New York by tomorrow morning. I want Ms. Bennet in my office at 8 a.m. Make sure that she is notified, even if you have to have Sal track her down and deliver the message to her in person. He knows the address of her apartment and _The Hole_. Then, I want you to call Suzzanne and tell her that the meeting we arranged for Monday has been moved up to tomorrow morning."

Without a farewell, he disconnected the call and stared angrily out at the breathtaking view of the Piazza di Spagna.

Suzzanne and her associate had arrived well ahead of time for the meeting and their presence only further exacerbated Darcy's nerves. He'd been forced to be cordially polite with the two professionals for nearly an hour as they discussed things for which he had virtually no interest. Worse, he barely recognized his office. It looked like a woman's closet had exploded. Boxes, bags, dresses, blouses, skirts, shoes and baubles littered every available surface. The disorder further antagonized him.

"Miss Bennet has arrived." Mrs. Reynolds informed him. Finally. She was nearly a half hour late. If she thought to punish him because of his date with Aubrey, Elizabeth was going to learn he didn't respond well to passive aggressiveness. They had spoken _briefly_ on his ride in from La Guardia so he knew she had not overslept. Before rushing off the phone with him this morning, she avoided his question about why she had not answered her phone the previous day. He knew why. She was jealous of him seeing another woman. Now, she was deliberately late. And they both damn well knew it. He strode into the lobby determined to be firm with her.

Only, he stopped in surprise.

Elizabeth's usually expressive face was downcast, a pale unhappy version of itself. She smiled seeing him, but that smile did not reach anywhere near her eyes. He'd done this to her. The article in the newspaper had obviously done its damage.

Paramount was the need to touch her. Comfort her. Without thinking, he crossed the lobby closing the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace, burying his face into her hair. When her arms lightly circled his waist, it felt like coming home. She was soft and supple, their bodies a delightful contrast to one another.

Darcy would simply explain everything to her about Rome. There was no reason for something that had not even happened with Aubrey should derail what was going on between them. Really, did he really want to crush the stirrings of such a tender heart? When had protecting her become such a habit? He forced himself to stay on task, whispering against the soft shell of her ear. "I can't wait to see you try on your new clothes this morning."

She stiffened in his arms. "Well, that makes one of us." This was not the reaction he had anticipated. He tightened his hold on her. She might be angry over Aubrey, but wasn't a woman supposed to be thrilled to show off her new clothes?

Maggie rose from behind her desk and shut the door to his office firmly. He looked in confusion at the sound. He'd completely forgotten they weren't alone, completely forgotten they were standing right in the middle of his lobby where anyone could see them. He needed a moment of privacy with Elizabeth.

Taking her by the hand, he led her to the small conference room rarely used across from his office. She chose a chair bowing her head as if looking at him was too much for her. He sat next to her, taking her hands in his. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I wasn't thinking about how this would make you feel. I won't make that mistake again. You have my word."

Her head rose, her eyes wide, her voice hopeful. "You really mean that?"

It surprised him, but he did. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do.

She let out a deep sigh. "Well, that's a relief. I thought you'd rant and rave and we'd fight about it. I walked around the block several times trying to figure out a way to tell you." Then her face crumpled, her nose reddened as she fought tears. "You have to know they're horrible human beings. I refuse to work with them anymore."

It took him a minute to follow her. This was about Suzzanne, not Aubrey. His being with the actress had not caused this reaction. His mood soured immediately. "Surely, it's not that bad."

"Isn't that bad?" She pulled her hands from his and sat on them. Her eyes sparked with life. "You didn't have the week I had with those two. Suzzanne's insane and unprofessional. And that Louisa woman she has working with her is no better."

"Unprofessional?" He glanced in the direction of his office. No one had previously made such a claim. Could there have been a misunderstanding of some sort? "Why do you feel this way?"

"Because. She thinks that—I think she thinks we—" She indicated the space between them, before throwing her hands up as she was at a loss to explain it herself. Finally, she said simply, "She makes comments."

"What kind of comments?"

She looked away from him. "It's ridiculous. I'd rather not say."

Frustrated, he crossed his arms. Neither one of them was leaving this room until she explained herself.

"She made me do this?" Elizabeth tried again, holding up her hands, flicking her fingers. For the first time Darcy noticed her nails were bright, fire engine red. "I don't like it. It makes me feel like I have blood on my hands. I wanted something a little lighter like a French manicure, but she said I had to do this instead."

"It's not a real hardship to have your fingernails repainted a different color." Annoyance at the triviality of her complaint could not be missed in his tone.

"She said I had to do it, because you liked it." She looked exasperated. Red nail polish was not necessary something he liked, but he didn't want to contradict Suzzanne. When he didn't say anything, her stiff spine broke and she slumped. "She's going to tell you anyway, so I might as well tell you everything myself. Wednesday, I walked out of the hair appointment. I refused to allow the stylist to cut my hair."

Without being able to stop himself, he reached out and touched one of the curls next to her cheek. "You mean a trim?"

"No, not a trim, Will." She batted his hand from her hair. "Suzzanne wanted me to dye it blonde and get it cut short like Pink. But I don't look good in short hair. I know I tried it once in college when Pixie cuts were in." She pulled a few strands of hair forward to cover her ears. "I have huge Dumbo ears. It wouldn't be flattering."

"She wanted you to dye your hair? To cut it?" He repeated. It had been the one explicit instruction he had given Suzzanne. She nodded, but would not look at him. She was too upset for that to be everything. There had to be more. He probed. "What else?"

Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on her knees for a long time before he realized she was crying. A tear slid down her cheek, and she dabbed at it with the sleeve of her jacket.

"Yesterday, she took me to a store where they don't even carry my size. She said if I was a normal sized woman I'd fit in something they had. I walked out on her again. Before I did, I may have made some inappropriate, but well justified comments about her heritage. I may have even dropped an f-bomb or two." She looked at him with stormy uncertain eyes. "Please, Will. Can I work with someone else? I'm really trying, but it's going to take a little time for me to drop the weight I gained. I'm a hard worker, Will. I'll do what I say I'll do."

He was stunned and confused. He'd worked with Suzzanne multiple times with other artists and this had never before happened. That she had done this to Elizabeth after he had told the blonde exactly what he wanted didn't make sense.

Then, suddenly, it did.

Her promise at the restaurant took on an altogether different meaning.

 **Elizabeth's misery was his fault.**

His temper flared hot. Seeing red, he stood. Darcy held out his hand to Elizabeth. "Come with me."

"I'd really rather not." She backed away from his touch which only inflamed his anger more. "If you don't mind, I really don't want to see either of those women ever again."

"You'll want to see this," he growled, hauling her to her feet by her elbow and then leading her back to his office.

Once she preceded him into his office, he slammed his door so hard it rattled in the frame. Suzzanne and her assistant were laughing at some sort of shared joke and he knew instinctively it involved Elizabeth. If they thought he was going to allow them to humiliate her in any way, they were in for a rather rude awakening.

Elizabeth slunk over to the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest. Defeated. And, he'd been the one who forced her to endure this bullying when she had asked him for a reprieve. Never again would he not listen to her when she issued a complaint.

Suzzanne took one look at Elizabeth and then his face before the excuses started. "Will, she's been impossible to work with. She refused all my suggestions. She left in the middle of her hair appointment. Embarrassing me in front of professionals at one of the best boutiques in -"

"Stop." It was intolerable that she thought she could blame Elizabeth. "For obvious reasons, I'm notifying you that your services are no longer required."

Suzzanne stood in her impossibly high heels. "You can't fire me. I've delivered a wardrobe _most_ women could wear."

"Careful, Suzzanne." He smiled icily, his voice a chilling warning. "I'd be very careful if I were you at choosing your next words."

"You'll pay me what you owe me or I'll sue you if you don't."

"Oh, I have every intention of giving you everything you deserve. More than you deserve, in fact." The flash of fear that crossed the stylist's face pleased him. He picked up one of the dresses, examining the tag closely. "You know how it is. When you return something you don't want to a business? They ask all these pesky questions. Why didn't you like it? Was there something wrong with it? Was their service lacking? And, for some strange reason, establishments I work with usually want my repeat business. I don't want them unduly concerned so I'm going to have to be blatantly honest with _each and every last establishment_. It wasn't them that disappointed me. The stylist I hired _, I might even have to mention you by name_ , just didn't do the job I hired her to do."

"You can't do that." Her face flushed under her perfect makeup. "That'll ruin me."

"I can and will do whatever I damn well please. You know the saying, Suzzanne, a dissatisfied customer will tell ten people. I'm awfully thorough in whatever I do; whatever I determine to be important." He glanced at Elizabeth to emphasis the point. "And, as you indicated earlier, you can always sue me. Something tells me, though, I might be able to afford a better attorney than you can to represent me." He opened the door for her. "Now I'd really appreciate it if you and your little friend here get the hell out of my building. Otherwise, I will have to call my security team to throw you out. We wouldn't want that nastiness, now would we?"

The silence in his office after the women fled was all-consuming. He glared out his window trying hard to reign in his temper.

"You'd really do that to her?" Elizabeth questioned in a frail voice. "Take all those clothes back personally and ruin her?"

"Yes." He turned to look at her. By God, he didn't care if it took until midnight. If he had his way Suzzanne wouldn't be able to get a job as a mannequin in this town by the time he was done.

"Please don't." Elizabeth still sat with her legs pulled up to her chest; her smoky eyes peeked out at him. "I really wish you wouldn't."

He threw his arms wide. He could not erase the damage done to Elizabeth. Could not erase her pain and humiliation. Knowing that it had been done by someone he had hired only made him feel worse. "Will you ever wear any of it?"

"Maybe on Halloween. Provided I was drunk enough. " Her immutable spirit was rallying. Its resurgence had an immediate effect on him. He smiled briefly in spite of himself. "There is a truly dreadful silver spandex number somewhere that makes me look like a giant sausage link. Dr. T will be thrilled. I'm probably never going to eat them ever again."

"If you aren't going to wear the clothes, why don't you want me to take them back?" He was curious. If it were him, he'd want revenge for Suzzanne's torture.

"Cruelty begets cruelty." She met his eyes before quickly looking away, as if she were afraid he would be able to read her mind. Oh, how he wish he could. She wasn't telling him something. Something he knew that was very important. "Isn't there enough in the world already? Besides, what good would come from ruining her?"

"Immense satisfaction."

She seemed disappointed in his answer. "Other than that, Will?"

Elizabeth's question made him introspective. Most decisions he made centered around what brought him satisfaction. Rarely, did he consider anything or anyone else. He had failed to protect her from cruelty and now he had disappointed her in some fundamental way in the how he intended to handle the problem.

"You don't want the clothes?"

She shook her head. "I can take them myself and get your money back. You really don't want to go from store to store to return them yourself. You just flew in this morning, and it would take the better part of a day. You probably have a million better things to do with your time."

"I think I have a better idea." Darcy picked up his phone. Mrs. Reynolds answered his call immediately, "Esme works with that organization for disadvantaged women. Yes, that is the one. Please contact them. Tell them that I have a clothing donation for them which I would like picked up today. And, Maggie, one more thing, I want them donated in the name of Jane Bennet."

Darcy withstood her inspection for a long silent time before she finally said, "You can be really a kind man when you want to be, Will. I'll see you on Monday then." She stood, dragging her coat up her arms, gathering her purse and belongings as she went. "I'll even try to be on time for once."

Elizabeth was leaving. Everything in him became alarmed at the idea. She was at his door, opening it, when he stood. "Wait!"

Over her shoulder, she looked back at him in question. His mind was awhirl, when it seized on sudden inspiration. "I haven't had breakfast yet. Why don't you come with me?" She chewed her lip undecided. "You can't really mean to give up sausage links entirely."

Cocking her head, he felt his body respond to her silent inspection. As if she felt the weight of her power over him, a delighted smile formed on her lips. "You've got yourself a _date_ for breakfast, Mr. Darcy, but only if I get to treat you. I think you've lost enough money because of me today."

Coming home to this had been a disaster. He had planned on seeing Elizabeth smiling, twirling, excited in her new clothes. Like Georgie when he spoiled her with a shopping spree. _Georgie._ Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?

As they entered his lobby, Darcy stopped at his secretary's desk. "Maggie, see if you can reach my sister. But, after noon. She doesn't have any morning classes today and I don't want to wake her. I have a favor to ask. Tell her she'll have unlimited access to my AMEX if she'll agree to take Elizabeth shopping with her this weekend."

"No more shopping. Please, Will, I beg of you."

"You still need a wardrobe. I'm afraid that your options are rather limited. Either shopping with Georgie this weekend or shopping with me now. Keep in mind, the rest of my day has suddenly been cleared. I'll leave the choice up to you. "

She glanced from him to Mrs. Reynolds back to him. "Well, if those are my only choices, I'll choose Georgie. I can't imagine having to get dressed and undressed in front of you. "

Trying to ignore the seed that was planted in his mind at her suggestion, Darcy struggled to keep a straight face as he returned his attention to Maggie. His secretary appeared to be doing the same. "All right, now that it is settled, please call my sister as instructed. Right now, I want my calls held since Ms. Bennet is taking me to breakfast. I'll return when we are done."

"Very good, Mr. Darcy."

Because they were wrapped up in conversation with one another, neither noticed, as they waited for their elevator, that Maggie uncharacteristically ignored her ringing phone lines to watch the two of them closely. The older woman smiled knowingly as the couple entered the elevator together.


	7. Chapter 6 Part 1

Thanks so much to my beta who helped me craft a few of the scenes in this chapter. I broke it up into two parts because it was well over 12K words. The second Part of Chapter 6 will be posted mid-week. Chapter 7 should go up on Sunday. I'm trying to get out of my writer's block. We'll soon see.

 **Chapter 6: This Girl Is On Fire**

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep

because reality is finally better than your dreams."  
― Dr. Seuss

As much as Elizabeth was loathe to admit it, getting some new clothes was an unfortunate necessity. After her breakfast with Darcy, she had returned to her apartment, went through her limited attire with a critical eye and determined he was right. Very few pieces of her existing wardrobe would be suitable. If she was going to sing for his label, represent Darcy Records, she would need to look the part. In fact, as she shut her closet door, she was dismayed to realize just exactly how many ill-fitting, oversized clothes she actually owned. There was no denying it. She'd neglected her wardrobe as badly as she had her health.

Staring at her reflection, she pulled up her mop of brown curls high into the air and looked at herself in the mirror. She had not been working out for that long, but she could already see the effects of exercise and healthier eating in her face. Her chipmunk cheeks were starting to thin out and there was more definition along her chin. Her body still felt thick and heavy, but she was starting to notice a little more definition in her legs. She even felt better. Walking from the subway to her apartment door no longer took the wind out of her. Baby steps, Dr. T had stressed.

*(*

The following morning, Darcy's call came as expected. She marveled at a man who had so much energy so early in the day. It seemed so foreign to someone who enjoyed sleeping in until noon.

"Be forewarned. Wear some comfortable shoes today. My sister is a fierce shopper who can go through ten stores in two hours. She's got a real flare for spending my money."

"Where was this warning yesterday? " she groaned good naturedly. "Or are you just saying all this now to make me feel bad for choosing Georgie over you to shop with?"

There was a long pause and she wondered if she had offended him. She had a habit of just blurting out whatever came to her mind with him. Just as she was on the verge of telling him that she was only joking, he surprised her by saying, "Elizabeth, I really enjoyed having breakfast with you yesterday."

"Breakfast? Don't you mean brunch?" They'd talked so long in their booth that the patrons around them had started ordering lunch before she had noticed the time. She'd never forget the stunned look on his face as he checked his watch and realized as she had that they had talked for four hours straight. "I had a good time too, Will."

Her admission was followed by another silence. She was a little confused. The day before there had been no awkwardness to their conversation. No embargo on subjects. He had impressed her with his intelligence and dry humor. It was hard not to be intimidated by such a complex man.

She glanced out her window seeking inspiration for something else to talk about, but there was nothing but apartment buildings, metal and cement. Her sleepy mind could not avail of itself anything which he would find interesting without first bathing in the sweet elixir coffee. "I better get up now to make sure I'm well and truly caffeinated before your sister arrives."

In a strange, concerned voice, he said, "Promise me you'll try to have fun today."

Darcy must still feel terrible about the situation with Suzzanne. He shouldn't, she almost told him, because it wasn't his fault the woman was crazy. Elizabeth remembered the week from hell and shuddered. Truthfully, she had never blamed him for the stylist's behavior. Even if she had been mad at Darcy, she would have forgiven him as soon as he donated the clothes to Esme's charity. It was an unexpected move that had given her further foundation for what she was starting to suspect about him. He cared about his employees and truly thought of them as his extended family. The situation with Salvatore was just another prime example. Darcy hid it well under that prickly exterior, but the man had a heart of gold.

"Elizabeth, are you still there?"

She realized she had not answered him. "I'll promise to have fun today. There. Are you satisfied pushy?"

*)*

When Elizabeth emerged from her apartment building at nine, Georgie and Sal were already waiting. Seeing Georgie with her blonde locks firmly braided and a determined look on her face, she was suddenly quite glad that she'd been given a warning of what was to come. The young woman looked as if she were about to enter an arena and battle a gladiator.

"My brother said that you needed a little bit of everything so we are going to hit up some of my favorite stores."

Looking at her friend, Elizabeth immediately objected. "I'm sure your favorite stores don't carry my size." She could not help but relive the mortification she felt in the boutique with her stylist from a few days earlier.

"Not carry your size?" Georgie laughed. "You do know that the average dress size for women in America is 14, right? And retailers want to make money so loads of them make clothing that will fit your figure and quite nicely. Suzzanne was just a cruel bitch who wanted you to feel insecure about yourself." It shouldn't surprise her that Darcy had shared with his sister what happened with the stylist, but she was embarrassed all the same. Georgie added, "It's a pity she let her jealousy of you get the better of her."

"Jealousy?" Elizabeth snorted, "The woman is tiny and beautiful. Why would she feel jealous of me? What do I have that she would ever want?"

Her companion looked amused. "Gee, I don't know."

This answer confused and confounded Elizabeth. She looked out at the passing scenery.

" Will told me how hard you've been working out at the gym. He admires your determination." She didn't think there was anything admirable about nearly passing out on the treadmill and said so which made her companion laugh. After a moment, though, Georgie sobered, "You know my brother just wants you healthy, right? Losing some weight will help toward that goal, but Lizzy, you are beautiful the way you are now. Do you know how many women I know who would kill to have your curves? And, your breasts? People pay thousands of dollars to have implants to make theirs look like yours do naturally. Not to mention you have a booty that could stop traffic." Elizabeth looked doubtful. "When you are dressed in clothes that show off your God-given assets to their best advantage, the only thing left to work on is to inflate that self-confidence of yours!"

Her friend made the entire process sound so simple.

*(*

Georgie directed Sal to Madison Ave, which boasted over fifteen city blocks of shops and boutiques. Just looking up and down the long row of gilded storefronts made Elizabeth anxious. What if she went through all those marvelous stores with all of the available choices and there were still no clothes that would make her appear attractive?

Turning to her companion for the day before getting out of the car, she tried to hide her nervousness. "I just want you to know how much I truly appreciate you giving up a Saturday to help me do this."

"Are you kidding me?" Georgie tightened the holder on her braid. "This is more of a treat for me. Will hasn't given me permission to use his credit card since my birthday a few months ago. And never _unlimited_ access. I can't wait to see the damage I can do. Besides, Lizzy, I couldn't wait to spend some time with you."

Entering _Ann Taylor_ , Elizabeth was put at ease immediately. Even though this was the flagship store, it bore some resemblance to the one back at home. Georgie had called her the night before and had requested a list of stores that she shopped so she wasn't surprised when they started here. She had mentioned it used to be one of her favorite stores to shop in when she was a normal size. The trendy store carried chic clothing with clean lines and vibrant colors that looked well on her with her coloring.

Zeroing in on a rack in the center of the store, Georgie started flipping through dresses. As Elizabeth struggled to keep up with the younger woman, her friend said, "I was told that you need some of everything and that is a tall order. I thought we'd start with some smart grown up clothes. Slacks and blouses and dresses. Those sweats you like to wear have got to go."

Elizabeth looked down at herself then at the other occupants of the store. Maybe she should put her sweats out to pasture. She just felt so comfortable in them. They kept her hidden.

After pulling three dresses from the rack, Georgie indicated for Elizabeth to follow her as she moved onto a blouse display. "Growing up, I would have killed to have a sister to shop with me. Let me tell you shopping for a prom dress with Will was no picnic!"

"Will took you dress shopping for your prom?"

"Of course, he did! You know my brother; no detail would get by him." Georgie rolled her eyes. "The worst part of it was not picking out the dress, but picking out the shoes. He refused to let me wear heels, which totally destroyed the effect I was trying to go for. Though, now that I think about how much Will hated my date, that was probably the point all along!"

It was hard for Elizabeth to imagine Darcy as a father figure. She said as much.

"Maybe not so much now. He's given me a lot of freedom since I turned eighteen, but there was a time I felt like I lived under his thumb." Elizabeth knew that feeling. Georgie noticed her expression and said, "I know he can be controlling, but most of the time it is because he is trying to make sure everything is run efficiently. My brother loves his plans."

"Yes, I know. He gives me a headache when he rattles them off."

Georgie smiled fondly. "Will was my world growing up. My dad died when I was a teenager. Sadly, even before that, he was not particularly interested in me. I think it was painful for him because I reminded him so much of my mom."

While her own father's parenting style was not ideal, he was truly invested in his children. No matter what had interested the five Bennet girls when they were younger, Mr. Bennet had always tried to find a way to be supportive. Even now, while he didn't agree with her decision to move to New York, Elizabeth knew her father was proud she was pursuing her dream.

"Will said that dad was different before our mom died, but I don't remember. I was so young when she had her car accident." Georgie quickly selected a few pairs of jeans. "Will was super close to my mom though. She encouraged his love of music. They'd sit at the piano for hours together. My Aunt Jilly, Richard's mom, said he could play Mozart by the time he was three." A few blouses joined the pile. "After mom's death, my dad was especially hard on Will."

Elizabeth picked up a blue sweater. Georgie looked at it and nodded. "Hard on him?"

Her young friend added a few knit blouses and pants to their growing pile of clothes. Elizabeth had to hand it to her. Darcy's little sister knew how to shop with nearly surgical precision.

"Will is really smart." Elizabeth recalled the degrees on the wall in his office from the prestigious institution.. "I mean like Mensa smart. Graduating from high school at fifteen, college by seventeen and law school by nineteen, masters by twenty-one. But none of it made him happy. All Will really wanted was to be a musician like my mom. She was a violinist with the New York Philharmonic. All he wanted was to be a professional pianist, but my dad wouldn't hear of it. Music was a waste of time according to him."

Elizabeth glanced down at a shirt she was looking at and put it back. "He said he went to law school to please your dad."

"Will told you about that ?" Georgie stilled, turned in the aisle, looked at Elizabeth in astonishment. "He _never_ talks about our dad. Not even with me."

She didn't want to give the girl the wrong impression. "He didn't really talk about it with me. Not really. Not in any detail. He only mentioned it kinda in passing."

"Will gave up his dreams to make our father happy. He wanted to go to Julliard, even got accepted, but dad made him go to his alma mater. You see Will was a legacy. Even when he graduated from law school, my dad was not satisfied. He goaded him constantly about music. It wasn't until after my dad died that my brother decided he could follow his passion."

While trying to process this information about her producer, Elizabeth was ushered into a dressing room where she tried on the jeans and the dress clothes, finding to her surprise that almost everything selected fitted perfectly. Anytime she was in a need for a second opinion, Georgie was very honest with her but never demeaning. Some of the items selected were discarded, but when she approached the counter, both women had arms full of clothing.

Her friend laughed when Elizabeth gawked at the final tally, then paid for the purchases with a swipe of Darcy's credit card. Georgie grabbed several bags and left the others for her to carry as she nearly sprinted for the door. Outside, Sal relieved them of their purchases, and Georgie dragged her down the street to the next store.

Seeing her obvious distress at the process, she reassured Elizabeth, "My brother was quite clear on our objective today. We're supposed to literally shop 'til we drop!"

They entered _Next_ a trendy well-lit sports apparel shop. Georgie made a bee-line to a salesclerk, promising the young man, "If you work on commission, this will be one of the best days of your life."

Over an hour later, after being convinced to buy three pairs of gym shoes, sports bras, socks, a multitude of yoga pants in various dark colors and trendy t-shirts, both women emerged carrying several large bags full of new clothes. Once again, Sal took the purchases to the car while the women continued on.

After _Next_ , her shopping guide steered her toward an upscale boutique named _Volumptuous_ that clearly favored women with Elizabeth's body shape. Upon entering, Georgie asked for Roseanne. A petite African American woman whose makeup was immaculate materialized and the women greeted each other. From their exchange, it was clear that they had been expected. A sales assistant had already selected some pieces Roseanne was sure they would be happy with from their Aphrodite Collection. As Georgie drank champagne and relaxed on the couch outside the dressing room, Elizabeth tried on several dresses under the watchful eye of the sales clerks. Instead of the tight and restrictive outfits she'd been forced to try on with Suzzanne, the material on these seemed to cling while supporting her fuller figure.

"What do you think? This one or the black one?" Elizabeth looked at her reflection as Roseanne and Georgie both considered the red dress she wore. Her friend was right, in this dress, her girls did look amazing.

"I say get both. In fact, I know Will would insist upon it if he were here, Lizzy. They both make you look sexy as hell."

Roseanne added quietly as if sensing her unease at spending so much money, "If you are on a budget, consider how often do you attend events where you would wear something like this?"

"Never," Elizabeth breathed out, looking at the lovely dress. There was no practical reason to purchase it, but it had been so long since she looked at her reflection and been happy with the way she looked. She felt seductive.

"She's being modest. She'll need a lot of dresses like this one. Because once her album is finished , she will have her tour, promotional appearances and award shows to attend." She couldn't help but feel uplifted by Georgie's faith. "In fact, she will be looking for a designer. Maybe, you could suggest someone? Perhaps the designer who created this gown? This style and material definitely favor her." Roseanne agreed and provided Georgie with the designer's card.

In the end, Elizabeth was persuaded into buying the slinky black dress that fitted her perfectly and the red number that she fell in love with when she tried it on. Georgie also insisted she buy skirts, blouses and the matching business jackets that went with them. Roseanne also suggested a few dresses that could be worn at more informal settings. In the stylish and well fitting clothes, Elizabeth completely forgot to feel self-conscious. She hugged the well-coifed woman who had helped her. "Thank you so much for today. I'll definitely be in touch."

"It was my pleasure, Ms. Bennet. If you need anything in the future, please don't hesitate to contact me here. I'll be more than happy to provide you any assistance you require. If we don't carry what you need, I have several contacts in other boutiques. We'll set you right."

Elizabeth was literally grinning when she handed her purchases to the ever-dependable Sal.

Giggling, the two women entered _Coach_ where they picked out matching handbags. Feeling spoiled, Elizabeth also selected a black clutch and a backpack. In _Bergdorf's_ , they tried on sunglasses, scarves and floppy hats much to the annoyance of the salesclerks. At the makeup counter, Elizabeth had her face made up and purchased several of the products they used at Georgie's insistence. It felt good being pampered and being spoiled.

When Georgie excused herself to take a call she suspected was from Darcy checking in with them, Elizabeth drifted to the jewelry counter dawdling at the watch display.

A well-groomed salesman approached as if sensing her interest. "May I help you with something, miss?"

"Yes, I would like to see this watch." Elizabeth pressed a manicured finger against the glass case identifying a platinum watch with a bronze face. It looked like something Darcy would wear.

"You have excellent taste." The man opened the case with a key, put on gloves, and placed the watch on a velvet lined tray. "The Rolex Daytona. The watch made to commemorate the company's 50th Anniversary. An excellent piece of craftsmanship. An instant classic. A limited edition."

She lifted it up and glanced at the face. The complex dials and clean lines were something Darcy favored in watches. Georgie returned to her side. "Oh, it's a beautiful watch, Lizzy. Who are you getting it for?"

"I was thinking about buying it for your brother." She turned to her shopping companion. "Do you think he would like it?"

Georgie blinked several times, then said, "I think he'd love any gift from you. Though, he wouldn't want you buying him something so extravagant."

She inquired as to the price and was devastated. "Sixty thousand dollars? For a watch? What does it do, turn into a house?"

The salesman made a face, retrieved the timepiece and placed it safely back in the case, locking it. "If you could tell me what you are prepared to spend, perhaps I could direct you to the appropriate counter?"

"Lizzy, we have more shopping to do for you." The man made a sound of dismissal and turned to attend another customer at the far end of the counter. "Look, it's nice that you wanted to get something for Will, but trust me when I tell you that he'll get a great deal of joy out of your happiness. He wanted this day to be about spoiling you. Besides, my brother can afford to buy his own watch!"

Moving on to _Barneys_ , Elizabeth selected her first pair of Manolo Blahniks while Georgie picked out a couple of pairs for herself.

"I love, love, love these shoes!" Georgie squealed like a child opening a present on Christmas day. "Will only gets them for me as a special treat, but today he said whatever I wanted."

"Let's hope he still feels that way when he gets his bills." Elizabeth fretted as she watched her friend select six pairs of shoes. After seeing the final total at _Ann Taylor_ , she'd been too scared to look at any others. She'd have had a heart attack if any of the charges were on her credit cards.

The final stop for the morning was at _Sak_ 's where they drifted through endless aisles of coats and jackets. Emerging thirty minutes later, Elizabeth had a warm winter coat, a nice leather mid-length jacket and two pairs of stylish boots. Georgie added a bright red scarf and matching leather gloves before justifying the additions saying simply, "Will wouldn't want you to catch cold this winter."

The women decided to break for lunch at one of Georgie's favorite Chinese restaurants downtown near Canal Street. Elizabeth insisted on paying for their meal, and to her relief, her new friend did not bicker about it. It was the least she could do to treat Georgie after she had sacrificed her whole day to help her.

Ordering a vegetarian dish for herself, Elizabeth listened as her companion brought her up to speed with what was going on in her own life. She discussed her classes, her friends, a guy she was interested in and then her after graduation plans. It was clear the girl across from her was struggling with what to do.

"You've got plenty of time to figure out that out. You don't have to rush to do it right now."

"I know." Georgie paused, her chopsticks crossed. "Will wants me to join Darcy Records. I know he does. He's hinted more than once, and I don't want to disappoint him. I'm just not convinced it would be the right career choice for me. Music is his passion. I'm still trying to find mine."

"Tell him." Elizabeth suggested. "After what you've told me about his past, Will would understand more than anyone else if you told him you had different aspirations. He would not force you to do what you didn't want to do."

"You're right, Lizzy. In fact, I know you are." She stabbed at a piece of broccoli, slumping slightly. "It just feels wrong not giving him the one thing he has ever wanted from me when he'll do anything within reason to make me happy." She looked solemn. "You know the saying that every little girl grows up wanting to marry someone like her Daddy?" Elizabeth nodded, believing the adage was true for herself as most women. "Well, when I meet a man who reminds me of Will, I'm not letting him out of my sight. My brother is the very best man I know."

"An ideal older brother, then?"

"Oh, he is." There was a fervor in Georgie's eyes. "You should have seen him with me when I was little. He was so patient with me and never got upset. He taught me to do everything. Ride, drive a car. He even taught me to fish."

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "What else does your brother like to do?"

She had clearly hit upon a favorite subjects talking about Darcy. "Anything to do with music. He'll play his piano for hours. Oh, and he loves to dance! You ought to make him take you out on the town some night, Lizzy. Wear that black dress you bought today, your new Manolos and just try to keep up with him."

Elizabeth couldn't help it. An image of him dressed like John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever sprung to her mind and it was her turn to laugh.

"Will likes anything physical" That Elizabeth could believe. His body was sensational. "Anything outdoors. He loves to run, swim and scuba dive. But most of all, he loves to ride." It was easy for her to picture him sitting tall in a saddle, commanding a horse to do his bidding like some hero from one of those silly period romance novels. "Do you ride, Lizzy?" She shook her head. "Well, I'm sure he'll teach you if you want. Will keeps a stable in England and we go for a few weeks in early summer. Next time we go, we'll have to show you all of our favorite spots."

Elizabeth could not fathom why Georgie would think that Will would include her in their family vacation, but she found it endearing that the woman before her thought so highly of him. "Well, you're very lucky to have a brother like him. All I had was four meddlesome sisters."

"Oh, Lizzy, you have no idea how much I've always wanted to have a sister!"

Elizabeth was about to comment that someday she would when her brother married, when she noticed a thin red line of blood coming from Georgie's nose. She reached for a napkin and the two women went to the restroom to attend to it.

After the blood stopped, Georgie looked at her with her big blue eyes, reminding her so much of Jane it hurt. "Please don't mention this to Will, Lizzy. You don't know how much he worries over the silliest stuff. I don't want him pestering me over a stupid sinus infection."

It had not occurred to Elizabeth to mention the matter to Will until Georgie said not to. The young woman looked nervous and uncomfortable. Could her friend have a drug problem? Georgie seemed like a healthy, bright young woman but even they stumbled some times. She was at the age that many experimented. She found herself nodding, but made a mental note to keep a protective eye on the socialite.

Their next stop was _Victoria's Secret_ where she drifted to the familiar flannel PJs section in the back of the store, much to her friend's displeasure. She had selected several pair when Georgie finally put her foot down. "There is no way I'm letting you buy those. While we are on the subject, I think I mentioned that you should burn those sweats, Lizzy. You shouldn't be hiding your figure beneath them like an insecure teenager."

That's what she had done, Elizabeth realized. She was more comfortable in loose clothing that did not cling to her body because she was unhappy with her weight.

"What man is aroused by seeing his woman in flannel?" Georgie held up some sheer lingerie with a fitted bosom. "Something like this will definitely do the trick." Elizabeth blushed instantly, trying to grab the garment from her friend's hands, which only incurred an additional whine from her shopping companion, "C'mon Lizzy, just try it on and see what it looks like."

"I'm sure your brother would not appreciate of me spending his money on something like that."

Georgie looked like she was going to object, but instead stopped a passing salesclerk who directed them to some of the more modest silk nightgowns and flirty PJs that suited Elizabeth's personality as well as her shape. She did cave eventually to Georgie's pleading and added some of the more revealing bras and matching panties sets.

*(*(**(

Briefly, Darcy had been concerned that Elizabeth's voice might not translate well in the recording process, but from the moment he heard her in the booth, he realized he had worried unnecessarily. In fact, hearing her sultry voice through headphones made the connection to her feel more intimate, as if she were singing directly to him, the glass their only separation. Some days if he concentrated hard enough, he could forget the annoyance that her band and Paul presented. It was near bliss. He had never been engaged in this way before with a woman. It was as if she knew exactly what nerves to pluck as easily as she found the right pitch.

He had agreed with her suggestion that they record her selections first. It would be easier for her and _The Hole House_ , to become familiar with the process if they were comfortable with the songs they were performing. He made minimal changes to the musicality of her pieces, and had even gone as far as composing music for the horns and trumpets he added to _Collide_. Making the song a duet had changed the lighthearted message of the original to something decidedly more mature.

While it would certainly do well with the masses, he found himself not a fan. In fact, he was starting to hate the song. Despise it more than any other song he had ever heard in his entire life. Worse, he reviled the ease developing between Max and Elizabeth each and every time they sang it. But, she'd been adamant she wanted _Collide_ as her first selection. And, because she wanted it, he conceded. He was starting to wonder about the extent he would go to make her happy.

He was pleased her other selections were all chosen from her own originals. Her lyrical prowess and her lighthearted storytelling ability delighted. Sold. Enticed. In addition, for someone without real training, she had a devastating range and a natural ear for pitch. Her enthusiasm to improve her craft made directing her a joy. Her voice — _God, her voice_ —never ceased to amaze. She was born to be in a studio, standing in the center of a room of musicians belting out her creations. Before he knew it, they were three weeks into the process and the CD was nearly half-finished. It was going by too fast. Much, much too fast.

The truth was he was loving every moment of it. The part of his day when he was not with Elizabeth seemed very much like a chore. He took every opportunity he could find to be with her. Going as far as riding to and from the studio with her. At first he had done so to ensure that she was on time, but he quickly realized he could gain an extra hour with her alone. There were other benefits to the new arrangement. The previous night as Sal navigated the distance to her place from the studio, Elizabeth had engaged her seatbelt, curled her legs up underneath her and promptly fallen asleep against her window. Noting her uncomfortable pose, Darcy nudged her with a gentle hand. She accepted his direction in her sleep and he cradled her against his chest. When they eventually stopped in front of her building, he gently shook her awake.

Instead of closing the distance and kissing her like he wanted, Darcy tapped the tip of her adorable nose. "We start on my selections in the morning. Go upstairs and go straight to bed. You're going to need a good night's rest for what I have in store for you."

She stretched and her cozy smile jumpstarted his libido. "Yes, slave master."

He'd gone home but had been too energized to follow his own advice. Instead, he sat at his piano and composed until the wee hours of the morning. A melody that had been swirling around in his head since the night in the subway finally fermented into something solid. Something good. Something very good.

The next day, Darcy found himself anxious as they walked into the studio together. He'd always known his tracks would take longer. They had to be rehearsed so the band and Elizabeth could get the timing down and to work through the normal kinks of the unfamiliar. For this reason, he selected for his first choice the popular Norah Jones _Come Away with Me_. Everyone had heard the smash. Something so familiar would make the transition from Elizabeth's pieces to his own selections a little smoother. It was also one of his favorite songs and Darcy couldn't wait to hear her rendition.

Seconds after the unveiling, it was obvious his enthusiasm over the selection was one-sided.

"There is no way I'm singing that song." Elizabeth's stubborn refusal was unexpected. "You have to pick something else."

"We've recorded your half of the songs, and I get to pick the other half. You agreed to this." It annoyed him that they were having this discussion in front of the band. Max was watching them with particular interest. "You're going to sing what I select and you are going to sing it to the best of your ability." Running late for a meeting with the legal department, Darcy gave the sheet music to Paul to finish handing out to the rest of _The Hole House_ so they could rehearse. He left them with a warning. "I'll be back before lunch to hear your progress."

When Darcy returned, unlike the nearly flawless timing she displayed with her selections, Elizabeth missed her entrance three times in a row. With each consecutive attempt, it became abundantly clear she was doing it on purpose. The smile on Max's face each and every time she did provoked Darcy more than anything had in years. He had been patient with her selections and had voiced no objections. He'd nearly bitten his tongue in half while she sang the infernal duet he despised with Max. Not once had he complained.

All he wanted was the same consideration, the same level of cooperation now.

After telling Paul and _The Hole House_ to take ten, Darcy entered the studio, intending to give her a long overdue reminder about who was actually in charge in this process. He'd conceded too much to her too early in their collaboration. It was time to rectify that mistake.

He crossed his arms as he leaned against the door blocking her escape. "Save us both the time and trouble and just tell me why you won't sing it."

"You wouldn't understand."

He tried to hold onto his patience but he felt it slipping. "Humor me."

"It was Peter's favorite song," she said in a rush.

As if he should know what that meant. He took a deep breath. "And, who is Peter?"

"He was my fiancé."

Darcy straightened, a physical indication of his shock. Why was this the first time he was hearing about a fiancé? "Was? As you were going to marry him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Will, that's what _fiancé_ generally means."

"You said he **was** your fiancé. What happened to him?" Was it wrong that he hoped the man was dead? Long dead and buried. Gone. Six feet under the Earth. Never to return.

Pocketing her hands in her slacks, the new ones that curved over her backside in a way that made his pulse race, she seemed to be debating about what to say. She chose an entirely unsatisfactory answer. "We broke up."

"Why?"

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "It's none of your business why."

He'd decide what was his business not her. "Did you cheat on him?"

She didn't say anything. In fact, she didn't give anything away. Inscrutable, she would've been an excellent poker player. He fought the urge to shake the answer from her.

"Did he cheat on you then?" Darcy withstood Elizabeth's glare, obstinately not going to be distracted from his need to know. If she wouldn't answer that question, he suddenly had a whole host of other questions for her. "Do you still love him? Is that why you won't do the song?"

"No, I don't still love him." She turned away from him but her body language was all wrong. He could feel her tension through the space between them. Clearly, she still felt strongly for her ex-fiancé. She fiddled with the microphone in front of her. "I did love him. Very much. Once upon a time. _Come Away with Me_ was the song we chose to dance as our first dance as a married couple. That's why I can't sing it."

Darcy felt nauseous. The song had lost its appeal for him now too. There was no way it was going to be on the CD. _Collide_ was bad enough. "Fine. You win. I'll find another song."

He was unprepared when she flung herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Each of her breathless thanks punctuated with a warm, moist kiss on his cheek. Her normal kisses on the cheek were bad enough. Each and every time she did it he had to steel himself from turning into it. This was so much worse and so much better at the same time. Jerking away from her, Darcy held her at arm's length. His entire body was smarting from the contact, the sheer rightness of her body flush against his.

"Will, thank you!" She was happy. Her eyes shone with relief. "I thought you'd be a bastard about it. I'm so glad I was wrong. I just didn't know how to tell you why I couldn't sing it. I was sure no matter what I said you'd make me sing it anyway."

She licked her lips and every fiber in his being ached to pull her back into his arms. Only he wanted something more pleasurable than sweet pecks of gratitude on the cheek from her. A real kiss, grinding her pillowy lips under his, would be a nice beginning. He felt desire for her pool in his groin. There was no time to do what he wanted. The band would be returning soon. And, he could not stay here with such obvious evidence of his arousal on display for all to see.

Darcy retreated back to the doorway putting a safer distance between them. He commanded sternly, "From here on out, I expect you to sing every song I bring you without complaint. No more games. Understand?"

"Got it, boss!" She saluted him. "I understand. I will sing whatever you want. Without complaint."

Elizabeth was true to her word, _for the most part_ , when he returned with the music for _Always Loving You._ When that song was finally recorded to Darcy's satisfaction nearly a week later, Paul listened to the final playback with him.

"Damn, Will. That's a baby-making song right there if I ever heard one."

Silently, he agreed. He was going to need another ice cold shower when he went home.

*(*(

Two days later, after reading over his choice for song seven, Elizabeth nearly groaned out loud. Another love song. Conscious of the fact he was watching her closely for her reaction, she kept her smile pasted firmly in place as she read the lyrics for _Start of Something Good_. She'd made it through _Always Loving You_. She was sure she could survive this one as well. She was barely through the first bars of the chorus when Darcy halted her. She was stopped on her second, third and fourth passes as well.

"I'm not buying that you believe the words you're singing, Lizzy. You need to put feeling into it. You're sleep walking in there."

The fifth pass was stopped when Doty accidentally dropped her drum stick on the up-tempo section of the song. The sixth attempt, Max's bass string broke.

"C'mon guys, get it together."

The seventh, eighth and ninth were all stopped due to her missing timing or flubbing of a word. "Stop. Stop. We need to record this one today." Darcy sounded as annoyed as she felt. "We're already way behind schedule, and I've got to go out of town tomorrow on business."

Elizabeth perked up at this information. Darcy was going out of town? That meant a free day, right? A free day. A whole free day? It was like Christmas. She'd mentally filled the unexpected hours with her favorite activities in nanoseconds—sleeping in until noon, eating lunch with the fellas, watching some TV, then sleeping the rest of the day away. She could even cancel her appointment with Sierra. Just this once.

"Before we try again, let me talk to Elizabeth alone for a few minutes."

Elizabeth tensed in preparation for their private talk. They were occurring more and more frequently while they recorded his selections. Max groaned, taking off his bass before giving her a strained look. Doty and Ricky also gave her sympathetic glances as they too fled the recording chamber. Waving her cell phone as she exited, Tara indicated that she was going to call her boyfriend.

When Darcy joined her, she could sense he was as close to losing his patience as she was.

"What's your problem with _this_ song?"

Elizabeth tried not to bristle at his emphasis as he waited for her explanation. She agreed not to complain, but never agreed that she would not give her opinion if solicited.

She consulted her lyrics because she did not want to misquote them. "You never know when you're gonna meet someone and your whole wide world in a moment comes undone." She waved the sheet music, "Who is W.D. Pembrook? And does he even know he writes crappy love songs?"

Darcy had clearly not expected such a frank assessment. He stood frozen a moment before he made a noise of disgust. Then, without looking in her direction, he skirted her sitting at the piano bench facing away from the keyboard. Grabbing one of Tara's guitars and without consulting the sheet music, he began to play the melody.

 _Did he have an eidetic memory_? His fingers glided across the strings smoothly without a missed note or ill timed riff. She couldn't have been more mystified with his expertise on the instrument if he'd sprouted wings and flown around the room. Eyes closed, he began singing the chorus in a deep pleasing voice:

I know that it's gonna take some time  
I've got to admit that the thought has crossed my mind  
That this might end up like it should

I'm gonna say what I need to say  
And hope to God that it don't scare you away  
I don't want to be misunderstood  
But I'm starting to believe that  
This could be the _Start of Something Good1_

The words, which on paper had seemed corny, transformed entirely when infused with his raw emotion. When he finished, he ran his hands down the neck of the guitar thoughtfully before glancing up at her. He seemed vulnerable in that moment, not the same confident and unapproachable Mr. Darcy. "Can you sing it like that? Just like that?"

Frankly, she didn't think she could. She didn't think anyone could. Darcy should record it himself. He would sell records like hotcakes.

"I see." The light dimmed from his eyes as he placed the instrument carefully back onto its stand and rose. She reached out, stopping him. She didn't want to disappoint him. "Let me try it again. Now that I know what you want, I think I can give it to you."

"You'll give me what I want?" Darcy's gaze lowered to her hand and she removed it. She didn't know why she kept touching him when it was abundantly clear he didn't like it.

 **Bang!**

Startled, she leapt at the sound. Max had thrown the door open to the recording booth.

Moving away, Darcy issued orders to the returning band, "Setup from the top. Play straight through." He glanced back at her. "We're not going to stop no matter what mistakes are made."

The rest of _The Hole House_ took their place without questioning but as Max plugged in his bass, he leaned over to Elizabeth. "I really do hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

"Of course not. He was demonstrating how he wanted me to sing the song." She was aware that Darcy was watching them through the glass. "Let's just give him what he wants."

"Is that what you're doing? Giving him what he wants?" Max synched his strap in place and nodded to Doty he was ready for her to start the countdown. "How very original of you."

Max's comments had done their damage and she missed her entrance again. The band continued on without her as instructed, laying the track she would eventually record over.

When the band was finished, Darcy came through the intercom. "Elizabeth, I have to make a phone call, but I'll be back in about fifteen. The rest of you can pack it in until Wednesday."

Max unplugged his bass with more enthusiasm than necessary. "Going to be another late night with the Mr. Darcy, huh? I guess you're not going to make our lesson tonight."

Last week, she had to work late with Darcy too. "How about tomorrow night? I'll make my world famous mac 'n cheese."

"Nah," he said grabbing his coat, "You'll be too tired. I'm sure he's got plans to keep you up half the night."

It was one thing when he started teasing her about spending time with Darcy, but what her friend was implying now was disgusting. Max made it sound as if she was sleeping with him! Without an apology or a backwards glance, the bassist left in a huff.

When she looked to them, the other members of _The Hole House_ were unusually silent in her defense. In fact, Ricky and Tara left without looking her in the eyes.

Doty made to follow them, but stopped. "You can't really blame him. He feels threatened. He barely has enough to cover rent and keep the lights on, and Will is a millionaire." She glanced through the windows that led to the hallway Darcy had gone down and added, "An extremely hot millionaire who seems to try to get you off on your own every chance he gets. How's Max supposed to compete with that?"

"Compete? Max and I aren't dating."

This news clearly surprised her friend. "Does Max know that you aren't?"

Before she could answer, Darcy could be seen returning in the hallway. He ducked his head into the booth. His gaze swept over Doty dismissively and landed firmly on Elizabeth. "Are you about ready to get back to work?"

After the drummer left, they got right back to it, but Elizabeth was very distracted. Her next two attempts felt flat. Darcy broke in again, after she missed the introduction on the third go. "We only have time for a few more tries at this thing."

"Just give me a minute." She was irritated with herself. With Max. With the situation.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just need a minute." She left the booth, went to the bathroom, washed her face and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Had she led Max on? She didn't think she had. Until tonight, she'd been convinced he felt the same way she did about him. Only friends. After all the weeks they had practiced together, he had never tried to kiss her again after their only real date. Wouldn't a man who thought they were dating kiss her again? Or, try to again at the very least? Max hadn't even tried to hold her hand. It didn't make sense that he thought they were dating. Did it?

There was a soft knock at the bathroom door. "Is everything okay in there?"

 _She couldn't even go to the bathroom in peace_? She made a face in the mirror but said brightly, "I'm fine, Will."

"I want this song done tonight." He paused a moment. "How about this? If you do it like I want in the next take, I will take you to _Stan's_ for dinner tonight."

 _Stan's_! Now that got her mouth watering. She hadn't eaten meat in a week, and it was the very best steakhouse in the city. She'd heard stories but had never been. A meal there literally cost more than her grocery allowance for a month.

She opened the door to him a crack. "You're on, but I hope you've packed your plastic. I'm not planning on eating salad tonight."

A dimple appeared. "I think I've got enough to cover it."

Thinking of a steak, instead of a man, did the trick. When she finished the last note, she felt insanely shallow. What did it say about her to be able to sing with such longing for a piece of charred cow when she couldn't find the same passion for a man? She waited in quiet anticipation for his final judgment. "Am I getting steak tonight?"

He chuckled through the speakers. "Yes, that was perfect."

Song seven was done. Only three more to go!

1 Start of Something Good by Daughtry from their _Break the Spell_ Album


	8. Chapter 6 Part 2

I'm not really satisfied with this chapter, but I am sick of fiddling with it. I hope you enjoy! Thanks to my editor and my best internet friend for giving it their blessing. Enjoy the vacations, ladies!

 **Chapter 6: Part 2 - This Girl Is On Fire**

 _"All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt." Charles M Schulz_

 _"Great food is like great sex. The more you have the more you want." Gael Greene_

Traffic was light and Sal pulled up to the well known brick façade of _Stan's_ in excellent time. Darcy explained on their ride that the owner was actually an old family friend whom he regarded as a distant uncle. After getting drinks at the bar and being assured they would be seated momentarily regardless of the long line of people ahead of them, he tried to catch up on some more pressing emails while Elizabeth wandered over to the lobster case in the corner of the lobby. He glanced at the time on his cell and then checked it against his watch. How had it become so late? Regrettably, he wouldn't have much time with Elizabeth tonight.

A shadow fell over him. A large, aging man dressed head to toe in white stood before him with open arms. "Will, my boy, when Mary said you were here tonight asking for a table, I couldn't believe it. I had to come out and see for myself." Darcy was enveloped in a warm hug which he returned enthusiastically. "It's been what—years since we last saw you?"

"A few, I suspect." He glanced about the familiar restaurant. It was hard not to reminisce. Memories of previous dinners, many with his father, assaulted him. So many family moments had been celebrated here within these walls. "The last time I was here was when I brought Georgie for her graduation from high school. She's about to graduate from college now."

"Oh, I'd love to see her." The owner looked about, "Did you bring Georgie with you tonight?"

"No." He tilted his head towards Elizabeth. "I'm with her."

"Oh? You're on a date, William? Even better." Stan looked hopeful, rubbed his hands together. "She must be someone special. You've never brought a woman here with you before. Who is she? A grand amour?"

"Her name is Elizabeth Bennet." She was already engaging other patrons in some nonsense at the case. It had been five minutes and she was already making fast friends with strangers. People were naturally drawn to her. On stage or off. He smiled. "She is a singer. We're working on an album together."

"You've always had a passion for music. And always beautiful women, eh? Now the two passions are one." _A passion_. Was that what this was that he felt for Elizabeth? Ever since the ordeal with Aubrey, he had struggled to quantify their relationship. "Are you expecting others to join you tonight?"

"No, it's just the two of us."

"An intimate dinner, then?" Stan's smile grew wider. "I have just the table."

While he was talking to Stan, Elizabeth had been joined by two well-dressed business men and she was animatedly making pinching motions with her hands. The taller of the men leaned in, rested a hand on her waist, and she shook her head. The three laughed. Reading the body language of the more aggressive man as he bent forward again made Darcy uneasy. He crossed the room to her, wrapping an arm possessively around her waist from behind her. Instinctively, he met the man's eyes over her shoulder in challenge, and he whispered close to her ear, "Our table is ready."

She didn't resist as he rested his hand on her back guiding her behind Stan's lead, but when he held her chair she asked rigidly, "Mind telling me what was that about?"

As he took the seat across from her, he admitted, "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

Elizabeth thanked Stan politely for seating them so fast. Behind her back, the old man gave him a thumbs up sign. Darcy shook his head ruefully. He didn't needed help impressing a woman.

A waiter handed her a menu. She opened her it, giving it her full attention. "You know, I already have a daddy."

Darcy declined a menu. "Those two didn't have anything but trouble on their minds."

"Maybe I had trouble on my mind too." He smiled at the bite in the statement. He quite liked her in a snit. It brightened her eyes.

His phone vibrated. Distracted, he read a text from Gloria Stein. She was the best in their marketing department and it was time to bring her on to their team. She'd texted her availability so they could discuss the best strategy for Elizabeth's release. He texted her back it would have to wait until next week. This unexpected trip to Atlanta to see Wentworth was inconvenient to say the least. But, his friend wanted him there when he made the big announcement to his employees.

Elizabeth flipped a page in the menu, her silver eyes widening at the extensive array of selections. "It might come as a surprise to you but some men do find me attractive."

Of that, he had no doubt. He did, after all, have personal experience. He stopped himself from embarrassing himself by agreeing with her enthusiastically. No, she was fishing for compliments. He was not going to flatter her with commenting on his growing attraction to her. It was obvious. Anyone with eyes couldn't miss it.

When Elizabeth decided on one of the more modest steaks on the menu, Darcy raised his eyebrow. She closed the menu, insisting it was what she wanted and then dared him to disagree with her by crossing her arms in defiance. He knew better than to tangle with that look unless it was important. The waiter returned at his nod and he ordered their meal. He was not surprised when Stan sent over a rare bottle of wine for them to enjoy gratis.

His phone vibrated again. This time it was his property manager. A reminder that an apartment was open in his building. _Interesting_. He hated that apartment of hers. It baffled him that even after she'd been given her advance, she had made no plans to move out of the horrid place. He typed a message that he wanted to see the unit. He looked at Elizabeth speculatively then added that he would be bringing the potential tenant along with him. Tonight.

Her sigh drew his attention away from his phone. "You know you really didn't have to bring me here if you didn't want to."

"I'm not the type of man that does things he doesn't want to do." He laid his phone on the table, boldly staring at her. "Surely, you know that by now."

When Elizabeth didn't respond, Darcy studied her face. There were pronounced bluish smudges under her eyes. This desire to be with her before he traveled was purely selfish. He should've dropped her home and insisted she get some rest but he'd begun to cling to these small snatches of time away from their work, away from the lingering presence of Max King. It was childish, he acknowledged, but he found himself doing everything he could to sabotage their weekly lessons. While he hadn't been able to hear what was said, the little tiff he witnessed tonight at the studio gave him immense satisfaction.

Darcy was not jealous of Max. No, not at all. He'd never been jealous of another man in his life. He damn sure wouldn't start with a second rate bassist in a third rate band. The fact of the matter was he wanted Elizabeth. He wanted her more than he had wanted anything in what felt like forever. And, they'd be lovers. **Soon.** There was nothing that Max could do to stop them when he decided it was time to take Elizabeth into his bed.

"Since you brought me here, Will, the least you could do is converse with me."

She wanted to talk? Good. He had just the topic he wanted to explore with her. "You were engaged only the one time?"

"Yes, only the one time." He was charmed by the blush that climbed into her cheeks. How many grown women did he know that still blushed? "Have you ever been engaged, Will?"

Shaking his head, Darcy felt a rush at this line of questioning. She was always asking about the women in his life. Could she be any clearer that she wanted the position? "In fact, I usually grow bored with a woman within a few weeks."

Darcy had said too much. He wondered if she was thinking, as he was, that it had been over two months since they had started having these little intimate meals. No matter how much time he spent with Elizabeth, it never seemed enough. These friendly little dates were no longer enough.

"A few weeks? That doesn't leave much time to get to know a person." He disagreed. A man and woman could learn a lot about one another's appetites in that period of time. He could not wait to show her, to uncover the secrets of her body. He wanted to find out exactly what she enjoyed and give it to her. "I guess that's the point, isn't it? It's actually better if you don't really know them when their time is up."

He detected her judgmental tone. As much as he wanted her, he wanted her to have no illusions. "I never lie about what I want, Elizabeth. And, I've never had any complaints."

She barked a laugh, then covered her mouth with a napkin, looking around sheepishly. "Oh, I just bet you haven't."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Oh, please." She waved the napkin like a mini-white flag. "If one of your lady friends complains, you just get rid of her sooner, right?"

Her insight was disarming. She was, after all, correct in her assumption. There was always another less demanding woman waiting in the wings. Someone else vying to get his attention. Even this unusual fascination he had for her would evaporate once he had sex with her a few times. He was glad she understood. They would be able to be friends after their sexual tryst.

She lifted her wine glass again, but it did little but draw his attention to her alluring mouth. "Tell me these women of yours, do they at least get some sort of pricey, parting gift when you are done with them? You know, tell them what they win, Johnny."

"I'm honest with the women I see from the beginning." He defended himself, bristling at her teasing. "I'm very clear about my rules before I become involved with them."

"You have rules, eh? Love is some sort a game, is it? With a winner and a loser? How very romantic of you, Mr. Darcy!" This time she managed to keep her laugh bottled, but the effect made her eyes glitter with merriment. She laid a hand on his, patting him like a small child. "Let's hear these rules. I'm sure they're perfectly terrible."

"I think not." He refused to be goaded. She made him sound foolish. He wouldn't give her anymore ammunition tonight. "I can just imagine what kind of a man you want. You want someone so completely besotted with you that he can't cross the street without consulting you first." He'd never be like that for any one.

She made the sound of a buzzer. "Wrong answer, Will. Let's see, he should be sensible, good humored, lively with happy manners."

It was clear she was not going to be serious tonight. She giggled playfully, then sobered, "Okay, let's see, since I want children some day, I want a man who I can respect." She paused thinking. Her children? What would they be like? Would they be miniatures of her? He could picture it suddenly. A little brunette girl with wild hair and big stormy eyes sucking her thumb and carrying a teddy bear. Her older brother with unruly black hair and vivid blue eyes, holding his little sister's hand. He blinked the hallucination away. She smiled continuing her list, "I want a man who challenges me and wants the best for me. A wise man, because I could never like a stupid one, to counsel me on the _rare occasions_ when I'm wrong and who is confident enough of his own to let me pursue my dreams."

There was nothing wanting in her response, but it rankled him. What she wanted was a fairytale! A man choosing to shackle himself to one woman for the rest of his life when there were so many on the buffet? It was purely romantic horseshit. The same woman, week after week, month after month, year after year? Who'd want that? He had a fairly good idea of at least one man. "Was the irresistible Dr. Hancock such a man? Is that why you were so desperate to marry him?"

The effect was immediate. Just like the day in the booth, something swam in the depth of her eyes. She played with the stem of her wine glass. "Will, how did you know Peter's last name? Or that he was a doctor?"

He, who hated liars, became one. "Georgie must have told me."

Her brow furrowed as if she was thinking of when such a conversation could have taken place. He hoped it had. His sister and Elizabeth had become fast friends since their shopping excursion. They talked nearly every day, met for lunch, went shopping occasionally and got pedicures together. In fact, it had begun to aggravate him just how much of her precious time Elizabeth carved out for his little sister.

"It seems like another lifetime ago, but I was actually a nurse if you can believe it." For the next few minutes, she told him unnecessarily about her career. A career he already knew all about.

Darcy was impatient to get back to the subject that most interested him. "You met Peter through your work?"

"Yes, he is a cardiac surgeon."

A doctor of the heart. A man who could make life or death decisions. A saver of lives. It was hard not to be impressed. Maybe, Darcy realized with clarity, he could feel jealousy. Elizabeth said she no longer loved Peter, but was he the man she measured all others against? "Why did you break up? You never said."

"I think what I said was that it was none of your business. That's as true tonight as it was the first time you asked."

Darcy was frustrated with her answer. After her disclosure about Peter, he had done what any rational man with his resources would have done. He'd hired a private detective to get the answers he wanted. It was more expedient than waiting for her to casually dispense her secrets. However, to his grave disappointment, the private investigator hadn't discovered the reason behind the breakup. It was the one thing he was burning to know.

Their entrées arrived serving as a distraction to their conversation. He cut into his fish and tried to prepare himself for the onslaught of what was to come. As he expected, she took a bite of her steak, closed her eyes and moaned softly with pleasure. It was the sexiest sound he'd ever heard a woman make. He couldn't wait to be the reason she was making it. It made him hard every time she did it.

 _Who was he kidding?_

They needed to become lovers, _and soon_ , just for the sake of his sanity. He wasn't use to celibacy. He hadn't been with a woman in months and he was in a desperate need of release. He couldn't wait any longer. It would have to be tonight. Rules firmly established or not, Darcy wanted Elizabeth. In his arms. In his bed. On his couch. On his balcony. The floor. Wherever. As long as he spent the night buried as deeply as he could inside her.

They'd have to go to his place. Going there would be a departure of a firmly established rule. In fact, it was his number one rule. He didn't bring women to his home. It made sense. It was so much easier for him to leave their place when he grew bored then wait around for them to take the hint to leave. But, in this case, it was a necessity. What he wanted to do with Elizabeth, he had to consider comfort. None of his fantasies contained that tiny futon.

And, the morning?

Well, the morning would just simply have to take care of itself. The trip to Atlanta would provide a valid excuse to put distance and time between them. Give them both an opportunity to regroup after a night of sexual gratification. The way he felt at the moment, there was going to be little sleep tonight for either one of them tonight. He wanted to thoroughly excavate her body.

Another text came in from his property manager asking what he should do since he had already collected a deposit from someone else on their wait list. He texted his property manager back reiterating he should return the money. He added a reminder that he owned the building, could rent to anyone he pleased, and if that was not explicit enough, he could also fire anyone he damn well pleased. It would be a perfect cover having Elizabeth move into his building. With any luck the paparazzi would not suspect they were lovers until their relationship had ran its course and fizzled.

A text came through on his phone. "I'll meet you at the unit tonight." He grinned.

Elizabeth did not understand why Darcy had offered to take her to dinner. Clearly, he had a lot more important things going on than to enjoy it with her. She couldn't miss the satisfied smile when he received his most recent text. Someone was evidentially giving into one of his demands, bending their will to his domineering one. If ever there was a man who enjoyed getting his way, it was William Darcy. The text was probably one of his rotating harem of brainless bimbos trying to arrange for a booty call. She restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Poor delirious woman!

She took another sliver of her steak. It was delicious—melt in her mouth perfection. No wonder people waited for hours for a table. If she ever made it big, she was going to hire the staff here to cook all of her meals morning, noon and night. Okay, remembering the work up Dr. Tanner did, maybe that wouldn't be good for her cholesterol but a girl could dream.

"Must you do that every time you take a bite?"

"Do what?" She sipped her wine. Stan had exquisite taste.

"Moan. It's very distracting," he elaborated, glancing to the nearby tables.

Elizabeth had no idea what he was talking about, and when she looked as he had around them, all she noticed was that several of the women nearby were watching him. Darcy would be able to generate interest in a room full of elderly nuns. No wonder he was so messed up about women. They practically lined themselves up for him. He should have a sign around his neck. _Now serving two million and one._ She almost laughed but was able to conceal her humor behind her wine glass.

Oblivious to her thoughts, Darcy chewed his food as if he were eating rocks. The few calories he consumed from his sensible meal tonight would be burned off by five thirty tomorrow morning. No way it could become fat around his mid-section. Not when he woke around four every morning and devoted hours to his treadmill, weight room or the pool before his morning call to her. More often than not, he also joined her in the gym in the afternoon to keep his eagle eyes on her progress with Sierra. She didn't know when he actually managed to sleep.

His cell phone buzzed again and at her pointed look, he picked up the device from the table, glanced at the message, and then slid it in his jacket pocket.

"You'll be happy to know that I've found a satisfactory solution to your apartment problem."

Apartment problem? As far as she knew, there was no problem. There was nothing wrong with her place other than he did not like it, but Elizabeth had enough sense to know she wasn't going to ruin a perfectly good meal arguing about it with him.

"There's a unit in my building coming available soon." Why would she care about an opening in his building? "I think you should take it."

She couldn't help it, she laughed. His dry, disarming sense of humor turned up at the most unusual times. "I think it's safe to say that an apartment in any building you live in is just a little outside of my tax bracket."

"I know the landlord pretty well." His lips became a sexy curve. "I'm pretty sure we can find some way to negotiate the rent."

"Negotiate the rent?" If this was any other man, she would have thought that he was flirting with her. Since it was him, she needed more wine. He probably wanted her to work out another extra hour a day in exchange for the apartment. Add another four songs to the CD. Have her give up a lung? No, thanks! Besides, such close proximity to him would put her even further under his micro-manacle thumb. Another no thanks! She chose a diplomatic answer. "Even if I could afford it, Will, I don't think it's a good idea."

He frowned darkly. Elizabeth finished the rest of her wine. When he moved to refill it, she blocked the top of her glass with her hand, shaking her head. "I've had enough. It kinda sneaks up on you and I don't want to get drunk."

He put the wine bottle down, pushing his plate away and nodded to the hovering waiter. She perked up as he approached.

"Will this be all Mr. Darcy or would you be interested in some dessert?"

"No, we'll just take the check —"

"Wait." _No, dessert?_ Was he was out of his mind? "He might not be, but I definitely am. Interested in dessert."

Elizabeth felt wicked when Darcy looked from the waiter to her with a look of exasperation. Whoever he had waiting tonight would just have to wait a little longer for him. Nothing, _absolutely nothing_ , was going to get between her and something high in sugar content.

"What do you suggest, Tyler?" She leaned her cheek on her hand, turning a full wattage smile on the young waiter who blushed to the tips of his ears. She listened with rapt attention as he seduced her with words like shaved chocolate, creamy caramel and freshly made whipped cream. Honestly, were there any words better in the whole English language?

She sighed in bliss "Oh, decisions, decisions. They all sound so yummy, but I think I'll try a piece of French silk pie." She channeled Marilyn Monroe, chewing her lip. "A big piece?"

"Sure. The biggest I can find. I'll bring it right out. Right away."

The waiter seemed a little unsteady on his feet. See, she could still attract a man's attention even if her producer didn't think she could. When she turned back to him, Darcy was clearly brewing for some sort of fight. Before he could deliver a lecture about her diet, she shot a preemptive blow.

"I ate a sensible breakfast and practically only lettuce for lunch. Then, I went to the gym where Sierra kicked my butt. I was reasonable with my dinner choice." She sipped some water to clear her palate, adding, "Besides, I haven't cheated yet and it's my cheat day."

"Cheat day?"

"Yes. I can have anything I want. No matter how bad it is for me." If his facial expression was any indication, she had just issued the walking papers to her dietician. "Dr T says giving in now and then helps curb cravings."

"Cravings?" Face turning red, he reached up and loosened his tie.

She wondered if he should have his blood pressure checked. "Will, are you alright?"

Before he could answer, her dessert arrived. For Elizabeth, it was love at first sight. Chocolate magnificence. Licking her lips, she knew it was going to be delectable. She lifted the plate to eye level and simply stared at its perfection. Something so decadent needed to be appreciated before it was devoured. It was a great pity that Darcy did not seem to share her appreciation.

As she took her first bite, Elizabeth closed her eyes. She couldn't swear to it, but she may have moaned. In fact, she may have several times in a row. Never had chocolate tasted so good. When she opened her eyes, Darcy was staring at her, his mouth hanging wide open.

"This is sinful. You've got to try it."

She cut him a small piece and lifted her fork in his direction, intending to feed him. His hand covered hers guiding it to his mouth. His lips closed over the utensil. Then, his tongue licked the traces of chocolate from his lips before he released her hand. It was no wonder that women flocked to him. He could making eat pie look like a sexual adventure.

"Do you like it?" She asked, his eyes had darkened in answer. Who knew, Darcy had a weakness for sweets too. "Do you want another bite, Will?"

"Yes, God, yes." Then, she cut him another piece. She was being practical. Sharing her dessert meant only consuming half the calories. She began to repeat the process when his phone rang. He cursed. Loudly. Several people at nearby tables looked at him harshly, but he did not seem to care. He withdrew his phone with a rough jerk. Looking at the caller ID, he answered. Something was said that he did not like.

"What is so confounding about what I want? I told you. I want to meet tonight. Not tomorrow or next week. Tonight. I was pretty explicit. I'm trying to enjoy dinner and you keep interrupting me. I'll call you when I am ready to meet you. I don't want to be harassed every second - " Without a look in her direction, she watched in amusement as he stood, walked through the lobby, gesturing with his hand and disturbing people as he passed, behaving completely out of character. Someone had surely ticked off Darcy and in a big way. She wouldn't want to be that someone for all the tea in China. She'd never seen him so angry.

By the time Darcy returned to her looking like a thundercloud, she had finished with her dessert. No half the calories for her tonight. He gave his credit card to take care of the transaction and then glared after the retreating waiter.

"I'm going to talk to Stan. The way he was ogling you was highly inappropriate."

"Ogling me? Leave poor Tyler alone. He did a fine job, make sure you tip him obscenely." She rubbed her stomach. "That meal was the best I've ever eaten in my life."

His jaw tightened. "About the apartment in my building. The manager is going to meet us there in a few minutes. Afterwards, we can go to my place. I've got a bottle of Royal DeMaria that I've been saving for a special occasion. I think tonight suffices, don't you?"

Elizabeth yawned, digesting such a heavy meal had zapped the last remnants of her energy. She might not even be able to stay awake on the ride home. She definitely didn't want to see an apartment she had no intention of ever renting. No matter how special the bottle was, she had drunk more than she usually did and was feeling tipsy. Yes they had finished another song, but she was not aware of why that was more special than all the others.

"Maybe another time, Will." She gave him a tired smile. "I just want to go home and fall into bed. I think I'm going to pull a Rip Van Winkle and just sleep straight through until Wednesday when you get back."

"You can't be serious?" He slapped his cell phone on the table with such force she thought it would break. "You want me to take you home? To that dump? With that junk?"

It didn't surprise her that Darcy thought her belongings were worthless, but to her they were heirlooms. Not collectable heirlooms he'd be interested in, mind you, but family heirlooms nonetheless. Like her dining room table. It had started out its life in the first apartment her parents had before they bought their house on Sycamore Lane.

" Why do you insist on living in that squalor?" Elizabeth's silence seemed to fuel his temper. "Why haven't you made any attempt to move? What did you do with all that money I gave you?"

How dare he ask her such private questions? For someone who loved talking of boundaries, he had none. "What I do with my own money is my business. Not yours."

Exasperated, she heard the tell-tale buzz of his cell phone as it fishtailed on the table. The women who were texting him all night were welcome to him. Especially in his current mood. He actually looked confused when she stood.

"You obviously have better things to do tonight and I don't want to keep you from them. I'll just grab a cab and that way you won't have to take me home and see my dump." She turned to leave, but then stopped suddenly, remembering her manners. "Thank you very much for dinner, Will. It was delicious. Please have a safe trip tomorrow. I'll see you on Wednesday."

Darcy called her name, but she did not look back at him nor did she stop. When she exited the building she passed a surprised Sal who was waiting for them, reading a book. Ignoring him as he rushed to open his car door for her, she whistled to hail a passing cab. As it pulled away from the curb, she saw in the rearview mirror that Darcy had exited the restaurant and was looking for her. Not able to fight the urge to hide, she shrank down in her seat, suddenly very glad to have the break the following day.


	9. Chapter 7 Part 1

You guys are mean to poor Darcy. I can't believe all the hate that I got about him in private messages. He's a single, wealthy man who likes woman. That isn't a crime. Most of the women who go with him enjoy their time together as well. I can only imagine how you guys will feel about him at the end of this chapter. Just remember, he does redeem himself. Really, he does. Thanks to my two favorite ladies - you know who you are!

 **This Girl Is On Fire**

 **Chapter 7 Part 1 -**

 _"_ _Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end._ _"_ _ **Seneca**_

"Again. Only, I'd like it done _right_ this time." Darcy barked through the intercom.

Elizabeth fought the urge to hurl something, anything, at the glass between them. The last two weeks had been grueling. Fourteen days straight of sheer torturous hell. Absolutely nothing she or _The Hole House_ did seemed to please him. No one was immune to his special Darcy brand of charm. He had made Doty cry twice calling her incompetent. Tara was told she needed to learn how to play her infernal guitar. Ricky's professionalism was questioned when, due to a traffic accident, he arrived five minutes late for a recording session. Elizabeth found herself having to talk Max out of quitting each and every day. The person she felt sorry for the most was Paul. She was not quite sure how the affable man managed to cheerfully show up for work, remain in such close proximity to their perfectionist producer and still retain possession of his winning enthusiasm.

Thinking back, Elizabeth could pinpoint the downward spiral in Darcy's mood to the morning _after_ their dinner at _Stan's_.

Instead of her expected six-thirty morning call, persistent pounding on her door woke Elizabeth. The loud, unfamiliar sound made her shoot straight up in bed startled. When the banging started again, she staggered sleepily to the door and opened it. He barged past her, clearly in a temper, "Don't you even check who is at your door before you open it? I could have been some crazy deviant out to hurt you."

His presence was so unexpected that all Elizabeth could do was blink stupidly after him for several seconds. Wasn't he supposed to be out of town? Atlanta, right? He was looking at her as if he expected an answer. "I think most of the crazy deviants are still asleep."

"And, then you answer the door in that!" He ranted, ignoring her comment, motioning up and down with his hands. Elizabeth glanced down. She was wearing one of the modest silk slips from _Victoria's Secret_ that Georgie had picked out during their shopping excursion. She had thought she looked pretty. He shielded his eyes as if the very sight of her offended. "Please cover yourself up."

Grabbing her comfy robe from its hook on her bathroom door, she wrapped herself in it, feeling decidedly unappealing. That's when she noticed Darcy was still wearing the same clothes as the previous night. The pronounced shadow along his jaw line gave him a sexy, dangerous air. He looked as if he had not gotten any sleep at all.

"Why are you here, Will?" She crossed her arms. "Surely, you didn't come all this way to critique what I wear to bed, did you?"

"Of course not. I came here - I came here because - "His red-shot eyes drifted over her person before he spun his back to her, only to begin pacing. "I listened to the playback of _Always Loving You_ last night and it's not as good as I originally thought. We need to work on it. Today."

She rubbed her eyes, then checked her clock again. "But, it's not even seven o'clock."

"I'm well aware of what time it is, Elizabeth."

"But y-y-you're going out of town today."

Clearly she had not been able to keep the whine out of her voice because his eyes narrowed on her. "My plans changed. I'm not going anywhere but to the studio with you." Elizabeth understood now. The woman he had planned to travel with must have changed her mind. He looked downright hostile having to explain himself. "Did you have something more important planned than to work on your album today?"

She grieved for the sleep she'd never know. She was too tired to hide her reluctance. Clearly, that only angered him more. She sighed, "Just give me a minute to get ready."

In the cramped space of her bathroom, she stripped and took a quick shower. Dressing with care after his reaction to her nightgown, she slipped into one of her new flattering wrap dresses and completed the outfit with boots. She took her time blowing her hair dry, desperately trying to tame her loose curls into an updo, but then gave up leaving her hair free. After all, it was just Darcy. There was absolutely no chance of impressing him anyway. Brushing her teeth, adding a little lip gloss and a spray of perfume, she felt she could handle anything her producer could dish out.

While she was getting ready, Darcy had apparently made himself at home. She found him sitting on her freshly made futon, thumbing through her most recent work in her newest song book. His boundary issues were appalling as he pawed through her personal items as if he owned them. He glanced up from his reading, frowned darkly at her appearance, and then returned his interest firmly to the notebook. Obviously, the new dress had not helped improve his opinion of her at all. Ignoring him, Elizabeth grabbed her backpack and threw in a set of her work-out gear. Since she was up and she was going to be close by, she might as well go to the gym after their session in the studio. Apparently, she still had a lot of work to do to gain William Darcy's good opinion.

In the kitchen, the discovery of a freshly brewed pot of coffee waiting for her took a little sting out of his impromptu visit. Grateful, she poured the heaven sent concoction into a travel mug. After rinsing her coffee pot, she slipped into her leather jacket and turned to him. "I'm ready when you are."

Darcy did not seem particularly anxious to move from her bed. He looked almost tortured. Lost. As unlikely as it seemed to be at the time, Elizabeth now suspected Esme had been right at _The Hole_. Darcy was hung up over a woman. Esme had said his behavior started months before she was signed to the label so he had been suffering quite a long time. _Poor Will!_ Her sympathy was well and truly engaged for her friend. He could be difficult at times but no one deserved a broken heart. It was probably the first of his life. She knew he wasn't the sort of man who was experienced at dealing with disappointment. Sighing again, she put her bag down on the kitchen table and squeezed next to him on the futon.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She offered gently, nudging his shoulder with hers. "You'd be surprised at how good it will feel to share with a friend."

Darcy's reaction to her offer was unexpected. Like a shot, he was up, moving away from her. He was through her door before she could even get to her feet. She felt bewildered and rejected by his reaction. Couldn't he see she was only trying to help? After gathering her belongings again, they met in the hallway as she turned to lock the two deadbolts on her door. As they descended the stairwell, she was not entirely surprised when he started to harp on again about what he saw as her 'apartment problem'.

"This is intolerable. You need to move out of this building. I mean it, Elizabeth. I checked last night and your building has several ordinance violations. You have to be reasonable. I can't stand it any longer. I can't allow you to keep living here."

"You can't allow me to keep living here?" She repeated in disbelief, stopping on the stairs. He continued down a few more before stopping to look up at her. She'd just had about enough of his high handedness. It was his turn for an ultimatum. "William Darcy, do you want to go to the studio with me or do you want to go home alone?"

An interesting expression settled on his face while he jingled the keys in his pocket and then finally he raised his eyes back to hers. "I want to be with you, Elizabeth."

"Good answer! I'm glad to see you finally have come to your senses." She smiled, brushing past him on the staircase. He lingered behind her, confusing her with his reluctance. "Well, c'mon, let's get to the studio and work on that song." She led the way to the street, stopping when she saw his fancy sports car parked at the curb. "No Sal today?"

"No, I gave him the day off when I thought I was going to Atlanta."

Elizabeth did not think it would be the Christian thing to remind him that it hadn't stopped him from making her work. As he opened her door and helped her in to the low slung seat, she couldn't help but feel the compliment that he had sought her out when he wanted company. Maybe he just wanted an impartial woman's opinion. As much time as they spent together, it was natural that he considered her a good friend.

They drove in silence. Elizabeth hoped he'd confide his troubles to her but perhaps that was too ambitious. He was as silent as a statue. An unhappy stone statue. Once at Darcy Records, they went straight to the studios which were eerily dark when they entered. No one was about.

That surprised her. "No Paul, either?"

"No." He grumbled, "We'll manage without him."

Only, they didn't. They made absurdly little progress.

After four hours of futility, Elizabeth felt her good mood flagging. She was exhausted after back-to-back-to-back attempts. Fed up with his quarrelsome attitude. If he wanted to fight with someone, he needed to find the woman he was mad at. She told him he was being unreasonable, to which he snapped, "I want the song the way it's written. Nothing more and nothing less."

"I'm singing it the way it's written." Her smile was brittle. "Unless I'm missing something here, it doesn't sound any different to me now than it did two hours ago when you decided to— can you check the playback."

He cut her off by sighing loudly. An infuriating sound in her mood. "It still isn't right."

This was followed by more nuggets of advice:

"The truth of your conviction needs to be in your voice."

"The audience should be able to believe it when you say that _you love us together_."

"Be a professional and quit pouting."

"Lie to me if you have to! You should be good at doing that."

 _Wait a minute! When had she ever lied to him?_

Elizabeth snatched the headphones from her head. She'd come here today as a favor to him but now she had to get away before she gave into the impulse and committed homicide. She was leaving. She was no longer going to be the stand-in for the woman he really wanted to argue with. When she stormed into the booth to claim her belongings, he stood. "Where do you think you're going? We're not done!"

Swiveling to face him, she was not going to stand here and listen to him unfairly insult her. "You may not be, but I am. I'm so done!"

He was gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "I can't believe you're actually going to walk out on me again!"

She stopped. "You're right. Even though you were rude to me, I should not have allowed it to dictate my own actions last night."

That got his attention. "I was rude to you. When was I rude?"

"Really? First, you ignored me by talking/texting other people the entire time, then," His inability to acknowledge his own faults was amazing. "You called my home a dump, my belongings junk and told me I live in squalor. How did you honestly expect me to react to that?"

"I didn't—" He rubbed his forehead, looking very much as if he had a headache. "You're right. I was wrong for saying such things." His voice softened like butter in a skillet. "I agree we're not making any progress on this today. Let me take you back home."

"You can't take me home, because I'm not going home." She didn't want him to appease her after being so mean to her.

"Of course, how silly of me," He scowled. "You made plans to fill your day off. Let me guess, you lined up a 'makeup' session with Max. So, what's it to be his place or yours?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but I'm going to the gym. I need to vent my frustration on some inanimate objects."

He blinked in surprise, rubbed his mouth and said, "Actually that's a great idea. I think a run might just be the thing I need to clear my head too. We could even go to our spot for lunch afterwards."

"Are you kidding me? I've seen enough of you today, William Darcy." She was angry with him right now for taking what should have been a relaxing day and stressing her out. She closed her jacket. He moved forward but she put up her hand, pointing at him. "I'm serious! If I were you, I wouldn't follow me to the gym. Not unless you aren't as fond of your male anatomy as most men are. I just might separate you from it as angry as I am at the moment."

()()()()

After a satisfying workout with Sierra, Elizabeth went to _The Hole_ where she complained bitterly about her disappointing day to a sympathetic Malcolm. It felt good catching up with her friends and they told her all about the newest acts at the bar and how the plans were coming along for their upcoming anniversary trip to California. Malcolm didn't know it yet but Phillip was going to propose on the trip. They drank, talked and laughed before she sacked out on the lumpy couch in the fellas' den and woke with a headache the size of a Buick the following morning.

After considering and rejecting calling in sick to work, the thought of Darcy's reaction if she did, propelled Elizabeth up and put on her borrowed clothes from Malcolm. Still smarting over his behavior, she ignored his six-thirty phone call. She took the subway and, by coincidence, met up with Max outside of Darcy Records. They rode up to the studio in the elevator together talking about trivial subjects that occupy friend's conversation.

When the elevator doors opened, Elizabeth was surprised to find Darcy waiting. She was self-conscious already about her outfit and had expected him to make a comment about her not taking his morning call or her attire, but he said nothing about any of it. The look on his face could have curdled milk. The only indication he was still angry with her was the way the door slammed at the end of the hallway when he took the stairwell instead of taking their elevator.

"Having a fight with your boyfriend, Lizzy?" Max asked before joining the rest of the band in the studio. Not deigning to answer his question, she followed after the bassist glaring at him. Paul brought them song eight, which was another love song: Jim Brickman's classic _Destiny_. In the end, it took eight horrible days until the song was recorded to Darcy's satisfaction.

The process repeated with song nine, another love song by W. D. Pembroke aptly titled, _Calling Out Your Name_. It started out as a casual ballad with a catchy piano and acoustic guitar, but as the song progressed there were complicated transitions for drums and electric guitar catching the audience, nearly, by surprise. It was a sad song - insinuating calling out your ex-lover's name during that special moment with your new one. The song was raunchy but, she had to admit, it made her feel sexy to sing it. That marathon six-day recording session, when Darcy rode the band hard, was only interrupted by Paul's intervention. The men could be heard disagreeing over the final cut of the song, while she and the band waited.

The two weeks that it took to record the last two songs on the record had made Elizabeth concerned. Exhaustion was leaving its mark on his face. It was no wonder. Between being President of Darcy Records and her producer, each a demanding job on their own, the man literally never quit. In her entire life, she'd never seen anyone work quite as hard as he did, and she'd spent most of her professional career around doctors.

Darcy evidentially played as hard as he worked. The traces of his many late nights were apparent in the redness of his eyes and the shortness of his temper. No wonder he was being so difficult to work with. He had to be living on fumes. She hoped whoever this woman was, she was worth it because she was beginning to worry for his health.

When she arrived the last morning they were to start on the final song of the album, her band was not in attendance. She tried Max's cell phone but he did not pick up. She hoped they were not running late because she dreaded Darcy's reaction if they were.

"Have you seen the band?" She questioned Paul as she shrugged out of her coat and hung it up in the studio.

"They're all here somewhere. Will told them we wouldn't need them today."

Elizabeth just barely held back a groan. He hadn't mentioned anything when they spoke on the phone, and Sal had driven her in by himself this morning.

"I thought Will was satisfied with the last take of _Calling Out Your Name_."

"I am," Darcy said entering behind her. He must be back in favor with his woman because she'd never seen him so disheveled. He hadn't shaved in days and his beard was full, his hair was unruly and she fought the urge to smooth some errant curls into place. He held out some sheet music in her direction. "It's the final song. _The Hole House_ is not needed for it."

Taking the proffered pages, Elizabeth couldn't help but note the composer and lyricist. "I see W.D. Pembroke strikes again."

Darcy simply nodded before he wandered into the recording studio. Exchanging a glance with Paul, she followed him feeling like a prisoner headed for the gallows. Another love song. Was there anything she felt less like singing?

However when she finally took the time to read it, Elizabeth discovered to her joy that _Stronger_ was not a love song. It was a testimony. About focusing on dreams. Never settling. Never surrendering. Demanding respect. Refusing to accept less than she deserved. It was all the things she wanted for herself. Things she wanted for her sisters. Things she wanted for all women everywhere. As she re-read the lyrics, she felt empowered. Liberated. It had both heart and attitude. She was a little jealous that she had not written it herself.

Darcy seemed impatient for her opinion. "Do you like it?"

"I do." There was nothing about it she did not like. "It's perfect."

"Shall we, then?" Her response seemed to energize him. He sat at the piano, flexed his fingers before settling them on the keys. "Ready?"

Elizabeth found herself settling in front of the microphone with more enthusiasm than she had mustered for several weeks. The song felt so easy. Both the lyrics and the melody suited her style. As expected with a new song, they faltered a few times, making adjustments for one another but on just their twelfth attempt they struck the perfect balance. She knew with certainty no other takes would be needed as the last note faded. It had felt right. Flawless.

Paul came through the intercom. "Let me check, but I think we've got something really special here guys."

Perplexed that they could share such an experience, Elizabeth looked at Darcy with something akin to confusion. He met her gaze unsmiling, looking almost troubled, before dropping his attention to the piano keys in front of him. He played through the first few bars of _Stronger_ again effortlessly not needing the music before him. As with _Start of Something Good_ , she wondered at his ability to memorize melodies so quickly.

Paul's voice filled the room once more. "Will, it's really terrific."

Standing and not looking in her direction as if he were all alone, Darcy placed a call. "You can send them down now. I'd like you to join us too."

A few minutes later, the booth was overrun. The band appeared. Maggie and other Darcy Records employees arrived with bottles of champagne. A small buffet and a cake appeared. As a group, they toasted her first album and she was bathed in best wishes.

"The awaited first album is finally complete. Congratulations!" Richard kissed her cheek before clinking her glass with his.

Elizabeth really liked the attorney. He had an easy zest for life and she had quite enjoyed her lunches whenever he had occasion to join her and Darcy. It was hard to miss the easy affection between the two men, more like brothers than cousins.

"I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will. Whenever your producer let's me hear it that is! He's been mighty secretive about the entire project." Richard looked around, "Where is he anyway? I thought he'd be in here basking in the moment with you by your side."

"Oh, you know how busy he is." Her smile felt hollow.

While Elizabeth had always known that she was just another performer in the vast, endless Darcy Records assembly line, it smarted that he wouldn't celebrate the culmination of their work together, that he wouldn't take part in the festivities with her. It was hard to remember that he was used to this. It was an everyday occurrence in his world to finish an album, but it wasn't in hers. It was special to her. He should have been here to share it with her. Them, she corrected, her and _The Hole House._

She suddenly felt like crying. Richard, she discovered, was watching her closely. Sipping from her champagne, she explained, "I never realized how intense the process to make a record was. I think there were times that Will and I were close to killing one another. I'm a little surprised we both survived it."

Now that there would be no others, the many tempestuous disagreements they had in this very room didn't seem so bad suddenly. He demanded perfection from her and the band. Was that so very wrong? Shaking off such morose thoughts she raised her glass to the only other, notably absent, contributor to the album. "To Mr. W.D. Pembroke, whoever and wherever he is, thanks for the songs!"

"I didn't realize he was writing again." Once again, Richard searched the room. His interest piqued. "You don't know how happy I am to know that. That's really amazing news, Lizzy. He's been missing that part of himself for a long time."

"Oh, do you know W.D.?"

The attorney was clearly surprised at her question. After a long moment, he nodded slowly. "I guess I probably know him better than anyone."

"Perhaps, you'll introduce me to him. I'd really like to meet him someday but Will blows me off whenever I mention it." Elizabeth had a major curiosity about the song writer. More than once, she found herself hoping Darcy hadn't shared her initial knee jerk reaction to _Start of Something Good_ with him. While at first she didn't appreciate W.D.'s turn of a phrase, she'd developed true respect for his ability and his creativity. She, too, glanced around but was only surrounded by familiar faces. "I'm actually a little surprised Will didn't think to invite him to join us, since he wrote three of the songs for the album."

"Three songs? Really?" Richard took his time to continue, "Don't take him not being here personally. He's a private person. In fact, he's been sort of a recluse these last few years. He hasn't written anything I am aware of for a very long time." He seemed to want to say something else, but decided on, "I promise I'll introduce you to him if he wants me to."

Elizabeth wasn't entirely satisfied with this answer. Why wouldn't W.D. want to meet her? If he had some objection to her, couldn't he have just refused to allow Darcy to record his songs with her? Unless, poor W. D. was in the same boat she was and he had signed his soul away to Darcy Records without fully considering the ramifications. The thought made her feel sad. He should have a choice in who was going to sing his beautiful songs.

"Have you known him long?"

Richard scratched the back of his neck. "Most of my life. But, I haven't seen him in years."

"What's he like?"

"Complicated, he is an extremely complicated man." He looked at her thoughtfully, "I'd really like to hear the songs he wrote for your album. I bet they are pretty special."

"They are. They are amazing. He's really gifted."

Georgiana, who had just arrived, joined the group. Elizabeth had been keeping an eye on the young woman for the last month and a half. Other than being a little tired during their excursions, she was relieved to not detect anything amiss with the college student. She remembered her own hectic senior year and could not blame her friend for being exhausted.

Entering the dark recording studio, Elizabeth turned on the lights and finally found her missing producer. Still, Darcy was sitting in one of the chairs before the huge mixing board staring into the recording studio where the partygoers were drinking and milling around with one another. The laughter and conversations a room a way were muted here.

Georgiana nearly flattened Elizabeth in her haste to get to her brother. Turning in his seat as if he sensed his sister's arrival, Darcy hugged her tightly, cradling her to him, absorbing her comfort, all the while not standing as if he didn't have the energy necessary to rise.

Georgie's voice wavered, "Will?"

"I'm fine." He gave his sister a weak smile that Elizabeth did not find convincing at all.

Concerned, she moved closer to the siblings, asking him herself, "Are you sure you're alright, Will? Can I get you something? Some champagne?"

He shook his head.

Georgie smiled up at him. "Richard wanted to hear the songs someone named W.D. wrote for the album."

Darcy's gaze immediately shifted from sister to cousin, but he didn't immediately move to fulfill the request. Was it Elizabeth's imagination, or did it seem that he was disappointed? Had the finished CD fallen short of his lofty expectations? Was that the problem? The reason he couldn't celebrate? She had disappointed him. She'd been a bust.

Quite reluctantly, Darcy moved forward, pressing some buttons and Elizabeth heard a whirl. "This one is called _Start of Something Good_." Through the speakers, she heard the familiar guitar riffs of the song play. It was the first time that she'd heard the finished product. She was shocked. Looking at her producer with new appreciation, she had never dreamed she could sound that way. William Darcy was a bloody genius.

"Wow, Lizzy!" Georgie's voice had more than a touch of awe after the song finished.

Richard was more business oriented. "When will we release it to the radio stations?"

"Not any time soon."

"Why ever not?" The attorney asked, taking a seat next to his cousin. Dollar signs were prominent in his eyes. "It's really quite good, Will."

"It is." Darcy looked pained at having to admit it.

Pressing another button, _Calling Out Your Name_ began. Shutting her eyes, Elizabeth could hear the perfect blend of guitar, drums and keyboard as the song came to a crescendo. W.D.'s musical artistry could not be denied. Neither could the anguish in her voice as she sang about losing someone she desperately loved while having to move and love another.

Instead of being excited as he had been for the first song, Richard looked perplexed.

"As good as all the songs are," Darcy pressed another button. "Paul and I just decided that _Stronger_ will be your debut single, Elizabeth."

As the song played, Darcy finally looked at her and held her gaze. Goosebumps covered her skin. The connection they had forged creating the song sprung up again. She was rooted to the spot, unable to move. No song had ever fully captured her essence the way this one had. As it came to a conclusion, he bowed his head in her direction. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to her. At long last, she'd succeeded in pleasing him. The enormity of the honor of it made her feel absurdly happy.

"I think _Stronger_ should be the title of the album, Will. Don't you?" Georgie asked breathlessly. "This W.D. guy nailed it on that song - it's perfect for Lizzy."

Darcy nodded wordlessly. Richard frowned, looking between his cousin and her. She was not sure why the attorney looked so concerned. The songs were wonderful. She'd never sounded better.

"Lizzy?" Ricky ducked his head into the booth, drawing her attention. "The fellas just got here and are looking for you." Making her apologies, Elizabeth followed him eagerly back into the studio anxious to greet her friends.

*)*

When the last of the well wishers left nearly an hour later, she went to recover her belongings from the booth. After playing the tracks for his cousin and sister, Elizabeth expected that Darcy would have retreated to his office to get back to more important work. She had never dreamed she'd find him sitting alone, giving every indication that he had not moved from the spot in all the time she'd been gone.

"I hope you are ready, Elizabeth." His voice was flat. " _Stronger_ is going to be a hit. A monster smash. Your name will be everywhere. Your songs are going to be played all around the world."

"I hope so." Darcy had given her so much, invested so much. She hoped the album was a good return on his investment. That he would make his money back quickly. Lingering, Elizabeth was reluctant to leave him like this. His mood felt dark and murky to her. "You'll have to introduce me to W.D. so I can thank him personally."

"Thanks are unnecessary. Trust me. It was his pleasure."

"Well, I'd like to tell him myself all the same." She slid on her coat, but stalled. She considered the empty seat next to him for a long moment but stayed on her feet. "Richard said he knew him, but he hasn't seen him in a long time."

"No, he hasn't. No one has." He laughed shakily without any humor at all. "I actually thought he was dead at one point."

She did not know what to say to that. "Maybe the three of us could go out for drinks sometime? I'd really like to show him a measure of my appreciation in person."

"You'd like to show him a measure of your appreciation? In person?" He repeated, swiveling in his chair to face her. "Lucky W.D. I guess his crappy lyrics finally grew on you."

His sarcasm was unnecessary. " _Stronger_ is a special song, Will. You know it is or otherwise you wouldn't have picked it to be on the album." He felt so strange to her. Distant. "I'd simply like to tell him. It's like he could see inside me and put what he found on paper." She placed a hand on her stomach. "I connected with the message. Felt it deep within myself."

"I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to him."

She frowned at his despondent tone. Did he think she did not appreciate his contributions? Was that part of his problem? She took a small step forward. "Will, I can't believe how you made me sound. You and Paul..."

"We didn't do anything." He contradicted her sharply, then after a moment, added softly, "It was all you."

She glanced into the darkened recording studio, "I can't believe it's all over."

He didn't answer, but after a moment, he rose to his feet. "Let's go somewhere and celebrate. Just the two of us. We can do anything you want." She was intrigued. Darcy looked so much like he had the day they went to breakfast after returning from his trip to Europe. "We could go back to _Stan's_. We can try everything on the entire dessert cart!"

Darcy's invitation was unexpected. But, Elizabeth had actually lost three pounds this week. She didn't want to destroy her hard won progress. She finished buttoning her coat. "Tempting. So very tempting, Will, but I'd better not. I can't imagine what I'd have to do to get rid of those types of calories."

"We could work them off afterwards together back at my place."

Why would they go there? The gym was closer. "It's not my cheat day."

There was a hard glint in his eyes. "Of course, it isn't."

He looked as if he didn't have a friend in the world, and she fought the urge to repeat Georgie's actions and hug him fiercely. She looked at the doorway then back at him, undecided. Then impulsively, she stepped closer to him. "Listen, Malcolm and Phillip are throwing a party at _The Hole_ tonight to celebrate the album. Why don't you swing by?"

"I'm sure I wouldn't be welcome."

"Don't be ridiculous, Will! Of course, you'd be welcome." Darcy looked doubtful as if he didn't believe her. She grabbed his hand in hers. "You know I want you there to celebrate with me." She smiled at him ruefully, "When was the last time you just went out and cut loose? C'mon, I'll even buy you a drink. One of the ones with the fancy umbrellas." He looked as if he were seriously considering her offer. Seeing his indecision, she teased, "Daisy'd be thrilled to see you again."

She knew immediately she'd pushed too hard. He pulled his hand from hers. "I'm going to have to pass. Being with a group of people is the last thing I want right now." Elizabeth disagreed with him. Human interaction might be just the thing to snap him out of his funk. "Go have your fun tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice but failed miserably.

"Yes, tomorrow!" Darcy snapped. He ran a hand through his hair as he seemed to be wrestling with something. He continued, in a much more neutral tone, "In the morning, I'll pick you up to take you to your workout. Just like usual. Just because the CD is recorded, there is still a lot of work to be done. We'll have lunch together. Then, we'll meet with Paul tomorrow to hear the final cuts. We'll have meetings with the marketing team I've arranged to work with you after we're done with Paul."

"There is no reason for you to pick me up tomorrow; Sierra is out of town, remember?" Something was clearly off with Will. "Why don't you sleep in? Get some rest. Maybe do something you want to do for a change?"

"Do something I want to do?" He scowled, unexpectedly. "Is that some sort of joke, Elizabeth?" She didn't know why her concern for him made him angry. "Sleep in? I don't sleep the day away. What is the real reason you don't want me coming by in the morning?" He tugged hard at his tie pulling it back into place and the professional mien she associated with him instantly shrouded him. "Is it Max? Do you plan on staying up all night celebrating with him?"

Elizabeth was getting real sick of people implying she was sleeping around." Who I spend my nights with is none of your business! I don't ask you who you have coming and going out of your bed. Lord knows though, what a real struggle it must be for you to keep all their names straight."

His eyes frosted. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" How had they started fighting again? And, of all things, about this? Exhaustion clung to him. She was tired too. Not a great combination with their strong personalities and with her emotions all over the place, due to finishing the album. She laughed at the futility of it all. "Never mind! I think we just both need a good long break."

"A break?" He rubbed his jaw watching her warily. "The weather is fabulous in Cabo this time of the year and I have a place there, I could open it for a long weekend. A few days on the beach enjoying the ocean could be just the thing to rejuvenate."

Pulling a face, Elizabeth remembered Suzzanne's desire for the trip. She didn't want to go anywhere that woman had been. "While I appreciate the offer, I don't think a trip to Cabo would be any fun for me."

He looked comical. As if she had questioned if his manhood worked.

"I don't want to go to Cabo, because I don't have anyone to go with me, okay." He seemed surprised by this. She held up her hands in prayer, playfully teasing, "Please give me a few days to myself, Will. We've been going at this every single day for months and I just want some time alone."

"You want to be alone?" Darcy's eyes narrowed as he leaned back against the sound board. "But yet, you're going out to a party tonight. That's not exactly the actions of someone who wants to be alone."

"After the party tonight," she stressed the next part, "I'm going home alone. I'm going to pull my blinds. Turn off my phone. I need some me time. Time to just vegetate for a few days. I need to unwind."

"You're getting an entire week off for Thanksgiving."

She was not going to be responsible for her temper. "That's more than a month away, Will."

"It's not in your contract that you get any other time off."

Oh, yes, the contract! That giant albatross she wore around her neck. A subject they had canvassed each and every day after _Stan's_.

Darcy straightened, turned from her, ran a hand through his hair then turned back. "You said you had no one to go with on vacation, but what if I can clear my calendar for a few days. I could go with you and keep you company. Wherever you want to go. Anywhere in the world? If not Cabo, somewhere in the Caribbean?" He paused looking at her as if gauging her response. "Somewhere exotic, maybe Africa?" He snapped his fingers. "I know, how about somewhere in Europe? You said you always wanted to go there. Let me take you. I can make sure that we aren't disturbed. I'll help you unwind. You can relax with me."

 _Relax with him?_ He probably had a detailed list written of ways to do it.

"That's really a sweet offer, but it's not practical and you know it." His generosity was sometimes was astounding as his conceit for the feelings of others, but she didn't want him traveling with her out of pity. If she ever needed an example of his friendship she could look no farther. "I just want to go back to my place and sack out for a few days. I promise I'll be in touch. I won't really turn off my phone, and you can call me anytime you want. Just can it be after 8:00am at least?"

He started to argue, but she put a finger against his lips.

"I owe you everything, Will. Don't you know I know that? I couldn't have done any of this without you. You've simply made all of my dreams come true. Every one. I'll always be eternally grateful to you for it."

Giving into the urge she'd been fighting, Elizabeth hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his neck. He smelled deliciously male. Rising up on her tip toes, she pecked his cheek lightly. Then seeing the mark her lipstick left on his cheek, she rubbed the smear. His skin was rough, purely masculine beneath her touch.

Darcy's entire body tensed. Releasing him with a sigh, she moved back from him. His grip was sudden and rough at her hips, stopping her escape. The feel of his hands on her made her pulse accelerate.

"Elizabeth." His husky voice drew her eyes to his.

Heat blasted through her body. How could something as cold as those clear blue eyes incinerate? They pulled on her. Called to her. Her body glided up his, her breasts pressing against the hardness of his chest, as she lifted herself on the balls of her feet.

Darcy did not move, he did not encourage, but his eyes beckoned. She licked her own lips, knowing she was going to kiss him. Not a peck on the cheek, but a real kiss on his lips. An excruciating ache yawned open deep within her, and she knew the only way to fill it was to feel his hot tongue against her own. Where had this idea sprung from? He was her dear friend. Her boss. She should not be doing this. Rational thought did little to dissuade her irrational behavior.

The door to the booth opened and the spell was broken. Elizabeth sprung away from Darcy like a cat splashed with cold water. She heard Paul's hurried explanation that he had forgotten his car keys, but she could not look at either man. She bolted, mortified at what she had almost done.


	10. Chapter 7 Part 2

I made it on Wednesday as planned :)

 **This Girl Is On Fire**

 **Chapter 7 Part 2 - Mess You Up**

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up."  
― Neil Gaiman, _The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones_

*)*)*

"Damn, Will." Paul gave him a look full of remorse. "I'm so sorry, man. I'm sorry for interrupting you and Lizzy - "

The withering look he sent Paul's way made the other man stop talking. Darcy had no illusion that he looked exactly like he felt about his friend's ill timed arrival. However, he briskly ordered his sound manager to meet him back in the studio the following afternoon. It was important for the song order to be determined for the final CD and which songs should be released to the public to generate interest. Then, he made his way to his office.

Maggie greeted him as usual when he exited the elevator, but he waved off his messages. He couldn't concentrate on work right now. In the privacy of his office, he dropped into his chair, his heart still hammered rapidly in his chest. God, he was acting like a teenage boy with a crush. But, he could not ignore his reaction to their near kiss. She'd almost kissed him - there was no way he could have misunderstood her intentions. And, if that kiss had happened, he shut his eyes, struggling mightily with the progression of his mind. Images of them together kissing made way to other more pleasurable things.

Damn, he leaned back in his chair, he hadn't been this worked up since the night at _Stan's_.

That night, she had flirted openly with him too. There was no mistaking the fire in her eyes when she fed him and asked him if he wanted more. Of course, he wanted more. He wanted so much more of her. In fact, he'd never wanted any woman in his life the way he had wanted Elizabeth that night. He blamed the fact he knew her so well and he found her so interesting for the unusual fascination he had for her. He was frustrated. So very frustrated. If only his employees would quite interrupting them, they could finally get to where things between them began to get interesting. He, at least, managed to keep his irritation in check with Paul. The night at _Stan's_ was a different story. By the time he returned to the table from telling off his incompetent property manager, she had grown cold feet and rejected him again.

So, yes, he'd lost his temper. With a woman. Another first.

His mother would be rolling over in her grave. Darcys did not yell at anyone in public. They did not interrupt a roomful of diners shouting out a woman's name. And, they damn well didn't chase women out into the street. He had done all those things. It was a testament to how crazy she drove him. He was lucky the no members of the paparazzi were around to document his odd behavior. It would have made front page news. No, he wanted to keep things about him and Elizabeth private. To himself.

Oh, Elizabeth had revved his engines before with her touching and kissing, but never as obviously as she had that night. He stood and paced in front of his windows. She had to know he'd be angry at being toyed with so expertly. She had to suspect the depth of his disappointment. Yes, he had been out of line reacting as he had. In hindsight, he should have just pretended to agree with her, taken her back to the car, raised the divider and then proceeded to seduce an agreement from her in the backseat. His desire for her had not banked, but grown with the successive days.

It was frustrating. Elizabeth had been right in her assessment of things. If a woman did not like his agenda, he'd simply move on to a more accommodating one. What stumped him was the fact he couldn't bring himself to move on from her. Even after she had embarrassed him at _Stan's_ , his admiration of her had remained, if anything, had blossomed in pace with his desire for her. In the past, he had indeed called all of the shots. He dictated the beginning, the tempo, and the end of the brief relationships he'd had with women. It had always suited him just fine. Walking out on him, she'd made it clear to him that she wasn't interested in a similar arrangement.

It wasn't as if she was the only woman in the world. He had other options. Lots of options, he reminded himself smugly, as he had lain in his bed that night. _So does she!_ The thought came out of nowhere, cooling his ardor and he had spent most of the night tossing in his bed, knowing sleep would not come. There was Kyle. Max. Peter. The man by the lobster tanks. Hell, even that damn waiter, Tyler. _Was she entertaining one of them in her bed tonight?_ The idea once it took root grew with each passing hour until there could be no other remedy but to drive over to her place and see for himself. There was no way he could go out of town to Atlanta. No way he could leave her without knowing.

Finding Elizabeth alone did not bring the relief he anticipated. A vivid picture of her dressed in that sexy slip of a thing she considered a proper nightgown had been imprinted on his heated mind. The silk had clung to her figure suggestively, one of the straps had slipped off her shoulder. Jesus! He was only a man. Seeing her like that, all sleepy and hair mused, did nothing but aggravate his desire for her. At his request, she had slipped on a fluffy robe. It had not helped at all because it lent her an air of innocence that he found equally arousing. Just when he thought he could not be effected more, she had emerged from the bathroom in a new dress and that wild hair swaying down her back. He was glad he was sitting down. The sight of her would have knocked him off his feet. She looked and smelled amazingly fresh from the shower.

When she joined him on the futon nudging him, every muscle in his body tensed, ready to pounce. It was as if she didn't have the sense to know she was placing herself in such danger. Telling him she was a good listener. Oh, he just bet she was good at a great many things. And, those that she was not good at, he could teach her. The only thing that prevented him from acting was the thought she had brought Max here. Had loved the musician on the small futon - the thought of being with her where other men had been made him sick.

He had to get out of her apartment before he could not control himself. It only angered him more when she attended to the many locks on her door. What if he had been a stalker? No one could have protected her from him. Her resistance to moving made little sense. There was absolutely no security. What was going to happen when her record was released? Any nut job in the city could break into her apartment, lay in wait for her. Any fanatic could be watching her from the fire escape. Laying in wait in the poorly lit stairwell. Didn't she understand what a desirable target she was? A man could lose his control with her so easily. She'd be a dream victim. Just the thought of someone hurting or getting close enough to hurt her made him certifiable. It was imperative that her living situation change. Immediately. She had to move somewhere he could ensure her safety.

And what did she do with his demand? Flaunted her independence. There on the staircase, he realized everything with sterling clarity. He had told her the honest truth. He wanted to be with her. Only her.

What did she do with his revelation? She had smiled, taken his heartfelt admission and acted like it hadn't mattered at all. She just wanted to get to work on her song.

They had argued that entire morning, but avoided the one topic he wanted to discuss. _Why had she changed her mind at the restaurant?_ Nothing satisfied him as he sat in the booth listening her to sing for only him. Finally, she defied him again. Refusing to sing another note. Not intimidated in the slightest by him, she made it quite clear his presence was not welcome when she announced she was going to the gym.

The next morning, she did not answer when he called her. That did not necessarily surprise him. When Elizabeth was angry with him, she did that sometimes. What surprised him was when he went to her building to pick her up, she wasn't there. That was new. He had started to panic. Had something happened to her? Was she hurt? She arrived at the studio looking as if she hadn't slept a wink. Max glued to her side. There was no mistaking the fact that she'd spent the night with the musician. It was quite clear to everyone that the two were lovers. Each day he was forced to watch them - tortured by every glance, laugh, touch the two shared. He could not hide the truth from himself. He was jealous. He hated Max. With a passion.

Surprisingly, Elizabeth did not avoid him. She continued to take his calls. He continued to pick her up at her apartment in the morning, drop her off in the evening. He continued to have lunch with her, join her at her workouts and he continued to monopolize whatever time he could wrangle from Max. She was as enchanting and as unguarded as ever. So much so, Darcy sometimes found himself forgetting about the bass player and found himself believing she enjoyed his company.

Today, he'd been blindsided. First, by the surge of emotion of hearing her breathe life into _Stronger_ , then by the realization of what finishing the album actually meant. It was over. Darcy was losing her all over again. Not to Max this time, but to the world. She'd work on promotion with Gloria then she'd be on the road touring. There wouldn't be any more time with her in the booth - no more excuses to be alone in the car with her, no need to join her for workouts, no more lunches in his office or at the bistro. The sense of loss was profound. It drowned him, came in waves. It was over. They were over.

Then as if Elizabeth knew he needed her, she found him. Confounding him, she rejected his every suggestion to be alone together. Why seek him out if she didn't want to spend time with him? How could he be any clearer about what he wanted? He offered her every temptation, offered her the world and she turned him down flat. Instead of accepting his offer, she demanded he give her time and space. He wanted to give her neither. She was slipping away from him and he didn't know how to stop it from happening. She was making him desperate, insane with longing. Demanding he give her time and space, but then taking him in her arms. The hot and cold messages were confusing him.

Did she want him or didn't she? Because if she did, she was going to have to drop Max. He had no intention of sharing her with any man. He understood what she wanted. For the first time in his life, he was willing to toss his rules aside for a woman. He was willing to do things her way if they could only be together.

His telephone buzzed and he fought the urge to smash it against the far wall of his office. He had meetings for the rest of the day and the benefit that Esme had lassoed him into attending that evening. He had to get focused. He had a company to run. Employees who depended on him for their livelihood. None of that mattered, his heart had hammered. He only wanted her.

*)*)*

"I don't know what came over me, Char." The silence that followed her admission was punctuated by the pop, pop, pop of the bag of popcorn in the microwave. "I just wanted to make him feel better."

"By kissing him?"

Elizabeth shut her eyes. She knew how it sounded, but it was the truth. He had seemed so alone. "Believe me, I've never felt more stupid or grateful than I did when Paul came into that room." She retrieved her unbuttered treat from the oven and carefully poured it into a bowl.

"I'm sure Will is quite used to women throwing themselves at him. He knows how to deal with unwanted advances."

"That's probably the understatement of the year."

"You're missing my point, Lizzy." Charlotte persisted. "I mean . . . did he try to stop you?" She rolled her eyes. No matter what Charlotte was implying, Darcy had not looked like a man looking forward to her kiss. She told her friend as much. "Well, what did he say after Paul left?"

"Please. I didn't stick around to find out. Like any sane woman, I bolted when I had my chance." Elizabeth grabbed a handful of kernels. "Will's not exactly the _'let the girl down easy'_ type of guy. He's fairly blunt about what he wants and what he doesn't. I've already been on the receiving end of enough of those conversations with him to last a lifetime. Believe me. I didn't need a repeat lesson with what was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

"But, that's my point, Lizzy. If Will hadn't wanted you to kiss him, he would have stopped you. But, he didn't. When you made your move on him -"

"I wasn't making a move on him. It's not like I was trying to throw myself at him. It wasn't like that at all." Elizabeth regretted even telling her friend about the attempted kiss. "Like I said, I just wanted to comfort him."

Her friend snorted into the phone.

"He's my friend, Char. That's all." Elizabeth looked heavenward for inspiration. "Believe me Will looks like he's about to have a tooth extracted every time I touch him."

"You've touched him before? Tell me more."

The shock in Charlotte's voice made Elizabeth clarify. "Nothing sexual. I've just hugged him and kissed his cheek a few times. Stuff like that. In gratitude."

"In gratitude, huh? Lizzy, sweetie, are you sure you aren't interested in him _in the slightest bit_ romantically?"

"No, of course not! I've told you repeatedly I'm not. I was just emotional finishing the album. I didn't expect to be so invested in the process. I didn't expect to feel so close to Will after we finished the last song of the album. That's all it was."

"Lizzy, you are really friendly. Sometimes guys do get the wrong impression, but you've never been the forward one in any relationship with a guy. You might hug a man, but you've never tried to initiate the first kiss. Not even with Peter, remember? You were so nervous on those first few dates and all anxious for him to kiss you."

Charlotte was right. She had always waited for a guy to make the first move. It seemed more romantic that way. "No, I haven't. But, I'm not interested in Will. Not like that. Believe me, I know I am not in that league. He is not shy about what he wants from his relationships. If you could call what he has with women relationships. He wants one thing from the women he associates with and from what I've witnessed he gets it fairly easy. Then, it's on to the next conquest." She proceeded to tell Charlotte about the conversation at _Stan's_ and his philosophy about women. Stunned silence came from the end of the phone in Ohio. "Char, I told you he's messed up in a fundamental way."

"It sounds as if he has the emotional IQ of a teenage boy." Elizabeth had an epiphany. His mother died when he was at thirteen and he'd had to watch his devastated father carry on without her. It made so much sense now. He'd barricaded his heart so he wouldn't be left by another woman. He did the leaving. She was suddenly and deeply sad for him.

"Today was just emotional. Finishing the album. I was so invested in the process. He was such a big part of it. Ya know? It almost feels like we were saying goodbye. I didn't expect to feel that way. Like things between us were ending."

"Maybe he was feeling that way too?" She almost hung up exasperated with her friend's inability to believe what she was saying.

"Right? Will's done this a hundred times. Why would this time be any different for him?"

"As much as you deny it, Lizzy, it sounds like you care about him a good deal."

"I'm not denying I care for Will. I do care. A lot." She had no qualms whatsoever about admitting it either. "It's natural for me to have feelings for him. He's done so much for me, and we've spent so much time together. It would be impossible not to care for him. He's made me—" Better was not an adequate adjective. Darcy had done so much for her than produce her album. "He's given me back my self-worth."

"Oh, friend," Charlotte whispered into the phone. A long silence followed. "I think you are in serious denial, Lizzy."

"No, I told you—"

"I know what you are telling me and I believe you believe it too. But, Lizzy, every time we talk about Will Darcy, there's something to your voice. It's really quite noticeable over the phone. You get all husky, breathless sounding."

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh, be serious, Char!"

"I _am_ being serious. I seriously believe you have fallen in love with the man. However, as a good friend, I will allow you your delusions." Charlotte changed the subject asking, "So, did you have fun at the party your fellas threw?"

"Yeah, it was all right." It bothered her that neither Max nor Darcy put in an appearance.

When Char's fiancé began to complain about ignoring him, her friend quickly ended the call.

Elizabeth turned on her laptop to watch one of her favorite movies, " _You've Got Mail_ " on Netflix. Drifting in and out of sleep, she was woken by a loud knock at her door. She stopped the movie, noting it was almost over. Tom Hanks was walking to meet Meg Ryan to reveal himself. She must have slept longer than she thought.

Checking the peep hole, she was surprised to see Max standing in the hallway. Slipping on a robe to cover her pajamas, she opened the door to admit her friend not wanting to thwart this obvious olive branch. Their friendship had been strained since the night she had gone to dinner with Darcy at _Stan's_.

"I needed to see you tonight. I need to talk to you about something."

"I'm sure I won't be very good company, but you're welcome to come in for awhile. I can make you some coffee."

He opened his coat, unwound his scarf and peeled off his gloves while she started the coffee maker. He lingered in the kitchenette area of her apartment watching her silently attend to the preparation of the beverage. "We're supposed to get snow tonight."

She hadn't checked the weather since she planned on staying in her apartment and sleeping the entire day away. She was not looking forward to her first New York winter. She'd arrived during the tail end of the mild winter they had the year before and had not exactly looked forward to the accumulation that the rest of the city took as normal.

"I think I'll survive on my meager rations of coffee and chocolate." Elizabeth turned to find Max staring at her. The sound of the coffee maker dripping was the only noise in the kitchen for several moments. "We missed you at _The Hole_ tonight."

"I didn't feel particularly like celebrating. I had a visit from an old friend and we had a lot to discuss."

"Old friend?" She knew he was close to his mama but very little else about his life before New York. Max rarely shared information about himself. "Did they have good news for you?"

"No. No, he didn't." His voice was pinched and he cleared his throat. "There's no other way to say this so I'll just get to the point. I came here to tell you I can't go on tour with you and the band."

"That's crazy talk, Max." She poured his coffee into a mug with New York stenciled in different sizes and colors. She added sugar and creamer to it before handing it over to him. "Why wouldn't you go on tour with us?"

He put the mug down on the table untouched. "Lizzy, have you ever done something you regretted?"

"Of course. I don't know any adult who doesn't have a few regrets."

Her cell phone rang and looking down, she saw it was Darcy. That was strange. He never called her at night. Certainly not this late. It was well after two in the morning, which made Max's visit also unusual. "It's Will, isn't it?"

She nodded and her cell rang again. She shrugged apologetically. "I know him. He won't stop calling until I answer. Let me take this and we'll finish going through all the reasons you think you can't go on tour." To the phone, she said, "This is really not a good time, Will. Can I call you back in the morning?"

 _"Why isn't this a good time?"_ Elizabeth almost swore at Darcy's question.

"Tell him I'm here," her guest interjected loudly.

 _"Is that Max?"_ She didn't want to play twenty questions with Darcy tonight. To her silence, he questioned, _"I see. You can't be having a bass lesson this late."_

"Not exactly." Glaring at Max, she let Darcy know. "Max just came by because he needed to talk."

 _"Talk at this time of night? I can just imagine what topic is being discussed."_ Darcy laughed softly, but there was absolutely no warmth in it. " _I heard somewhere that confession is good for the soul. Then, again, I'm not sure I have one anymore."_ His words were slightly slurred. He sounded drunk.

She stared at the phone in her hand, "Are you drinking, Will?"

 _"In fact, I am. Quite copious amounts."_ She heard the tinkle of piano keys in the background. _"The snow clouds are moving into the city. They are gray. They reminded me of your eyes, Elizabeth."_

Snow clouds reminded him of her eyes? She didn't know what to say especially with Max nearby. Then, the phone went dead in her hand. Perplexed by such an odd call, she put her phone back on its charger and decided to take care of Max's crisis first. Then, when she woke up fully, she'd call Darcy back. Maybe he had drunk dialed her?

"Tell me why can't you tour?" He stood with his back to her absorbed in looking at the pictures of her family on the wall. She was frustrated with Max. "You know that one of our stops is going to be in the south. You could leave tickets for your mom. She'd be real proud of you to see that you've made it."

"If she knew what I've done, she wouldn't be proud of me."

She moved forward stepping in front of him. "What is it? What do you think you've done so horrible that forgiveness cannot be given?"

"I want to tell you. I do." His hands settled on her shoulders. "I thought I had the courage to tell you tonight but I can't. You'll hate me when I do, and I can't bear the thought of it."

"Why would I hate you?"

Max seemed different tonight. Like a stranger. "No matter what happens, promise me that you will remember that we were good friends once."

"What did you do, Max? That I won't forgive?" She was becoming frightened by his behavior.

"I betrayed the one I love the most in the world?" He hugged her. "I betrayed you, sweetheart."

Shocked at his hug and his tone, Elizabeth tried pulling back from him, but his embrace did not loosen.

"I know you don't feel like I do about you." His voice became a creepy husky whisper. It reminded her strongly of Peter. Peter when he couldn't be reasoned with. "Once, we might have been something. If things were different—" His arms constricted around her painfully, binding her against him. "If you'd never have met him —"

"Max, you're hurting me." She tried to squirm but her shoulders were being held firm. There was no way to get leverage.

"Just one night. One night I want that bastard to be as miserable as I am—" His lips brushed her neck. The touch revolted her. His breath was hot against her ear. "Did you tell Will all about the _good_ doctor? All about what he did to you?"

Elizabeth stopped resisting but the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Max's behavior had taken her back to a very bad place. "He doesn't need to know anything about my love life. It's none of his business. It's none of yours either. "

" You don't have to tell me what Peter did to you. I can just imagine what lengths a man like that might go to keep his beautiful songbird caged. You see, I already know all about the Peters and the Wills of the world. I can fill in the blanks all by myself." Max licked her ear. Her stomach rolled. "Some men always get what they want. Whenever they want it. It makes me sick that women like you just fall at their feet willing to give it to them. Didn't you learn your lesson the first time with your fiancé? Or, are women like you just so pathetic?"

She took a deep breath and said calmly, "Max, I need you to let me go right now or I'm going to scream."

"Scream? Did you scream in pleasure when he took you, Lizzy? When Darcy took you the first time? I bet you came for him before he finished too."

"You're disgusting!" She pushed hard against him, but he was much stronger than her.

"You didn't always think so." Another dry kiss landed on her neck.

"I do now." She said forcefully, freeing one arm. She smacked him hard across the face.

Max released her. The power of her strike was prominent in the reddening of his left cheek. He sneered as he placed a hand where hers had been. "You're nothing but a little, teasing bitch."

Stumbling away from him, moving to the kitchen, Elizabeth went for the knife block on her stove. She was shaking like a leaf in a wind storm, but held the butcher knife up and high. She was not going to be a victim ever again. She needed to get him out of the apartment. "You need to leave Max. Either on your own or on a gurney."

He didn't look in her direction as he grabbed his winter gear and exited her apartment.

*(*

Rushing to secure her door behind him, Elizabeth wished mightily for a few extra locks, then went for her phone. She dialed Darcy's number with trembling hands, but he did not answer. Scared and feeling extremely unsecure, she had almost talked herself into catching a cab and dropping in unannounced at his apartment building. She talked herself out of it almost as quickly.

Darcy already disliked Max. If he heard about tonight, he would make sure that she toured with a different band. That would not be fair to Tara, Doty or Ricky. She couldn't call Charlotte, her parents or the fellas either. Charlotte knew too much about Peter, her parents would worry and the fellas would fire Max. Settling back on her futon and drawing her legs up to her chin, she laid awake too scared to sleep and jumping every time she heard a strange noise.

At six-thirty, her phone lit up. It didn't even have a chance to ring once.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy sounded a little surprised and much more like his normal self. "I thought I'd get your voicemail. I didn't expect you to be able to answer this morning."

Relieved, she teased back, "I didn't expect you to be able to call after last night." Silence filled the phone line. She peeled a piece of paint from her window pane. "Will, I—"

"I just called to tell you that were right." His voice was cold as he cut her off. "You deserve time to yourself."

"That's great, Will, but - " After last night's strange call and her even stranger visit, she found she wanted to see Darcy. Very much. She decided to share what happened with Max. He'd know what to do about it. He wouldn't punish the entire band for one member. "Maybe we could grab lunch today? Or coffee, if your schedule is too busy? I really need your opinion about something."

"I'm sorry, but I can't today." Funny, he really didn't sound as if he were. "I'm on my way to the airport right now. I'm leaving town in about an hour."

She chewed her fingernail. "Oh, that was sudden. Hey, maybe I could join you like you suggested. I really could use some time out of the city. Are you headed to Atlanta?"

"No, I'm not going to Atlanta. As a matter of fact, I'm headed for Cabo. And, I'm taking a _good friend_ with me. Someone who I know will enjoy their time with me."

Elizabeth wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what _'taking a good friend to Cabo_ ' meant. She sure as heck didn't want to intrude and be a third wheel with him and his bimbo of the week. Good for him, she thought, ignoring the strange firmness in the middle of her chest.

Somehow, she forced herself to sound lighthearted. "I hope you enjoy yourself."

"I intend to fully enjoy myself quite often." She detected the icy edge in his voice. "Unless there is something else you want to discuss, I'll let you get back to what you were doing."

"I can't think of anything." She was not encouraged to tell him about Max. Maybe Max's visit wouldn't seem as odd in the full light of the day. She didn't want to disrupt Darcy's plans now that he was going to take vacation with his friend. What concerned her was that he'd been many things on his calls to her, but he'd never been this abrupt. "I won't keep you. Bye, Will."

Then without another word, he hung up.

For the following three days, Elizabeth continued to communicate with Will as usual by phone. There was a distance in their stilted conversations that she realized hadn't been there before, and she couldn't seem to find a subject that would bridge it. Darcy was extremely vague about his travel, when he planned to return to the city, who he was with and each time she asked outright he avoided telling her which only made her feel more foolish for asking.

Max was another conundrum. What had he meant by saying he betrayed her? The day after his visit to her apartment, he called off sick at _The Hole_. The next day he showed up and acted as if nothing had occurred between them. Seeing the side of him he showed at her apartment, she was no longer comfortable with him. She'd learned well enough to trust her intuition when it came to not feeling completely safe with a man. She'd rather over-react than ignore the warning bells that went off whenever the bass player was now present. She made it a point to never be alone anywhere with him.


	11. Chapter 8 part 1

Okay several of you will be mightily disappointed in both Will and Elizabeth by the end of the chapter. I have written this three different ways and my two most trusted readers told me this is the best and most realistic outcome. For those of you who don't like it - I apologize in advance.

Several of you know what is coming next and have been asking over and over when it was coming. So, finally, it will be here on Wednesday in part 2.

Please keep in mind that I don't write the "juicy stuff" very well. I did my very best. Enjoy!

 **This Girl Is On Fire**

 **Chapter 8 - Chapter 1**

"Looks like a girl, but she's a flame  
So bright, she can burn your eyes  
Better look the other way  
You can try but you'll never forget her name  
She's on top of the world  
Hottest of the hottest girls say"

 **Girl on Fire - Alicia Keys**

" _Wake up!" Jane's voice sounded urgent in her ear. She was late for school again._

 _Elizabeth snuggled deeper under the covers telling her sister, "Five more minutes."_

 _"No, Lizzy!" Jane punched her shoulder hard. "You don't have five more minutes. Wake up. Now."_

Opening her eyes, Elizabeth's hand rubbed the tender spot on her shoulder. For someone sweet and kind, Jane could sure punch hard. She was about to complain to her sister when Elizabeth remembered that Jane could not be in her apartment. Her arm throbbed. The pain was real. What could have caused it? She was slow to lose the effect of sleep. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat up glancing about the room confused. It was dark. If she had to guess it was well after midnight.

There was a noise. She tried to place the sound. At first, it sounded like a plane but it did not go away. Maybe a hurt animal? A rat? The thought grossed her out. Her sleep-clogged mind struggled. What was it? She didn't think it was an animal - it was too persistent.

As she concentrated, Elizabeth noticed that her dark apartment almost seemed hazy. She rubbed her eyes to clear her vision, but the murkiness stubbornly remained. She coughed once. Then, again. Her throat tickled. She could see the door in her kitchen outlined in orange.

How strange? The lights in the landing had gone out again. The landlord couldn't have replaced them so quickly. He never did anything quickly.

 _It's a fire. Get out._

Adrenaline rushed through her blood at Jane's warning. Facing the window, Elizabeth pulled hard on the sash, but it would not budge. She smacked the frame trying to loosen it and tried again. Arms straining, escape lay mockingly beyond her reach on the other side of the glass. Thwarted, she turned for the other exit, the front door, but her apartment was no longer dark. It was aglow. Bright, nasty tongues of flame that were not there seconds before, were lapping up, under and around her front door. She watched as the fire leapt from the door to the kitchenette consuming the towels she kept there for drying dishes. The two shelves above the sink were beginning to blacken, the blue contact paper she had applied when she moved in began to bubble and peel. A soft, pathetic chirping sound emanated from the aging smoke detector in the ceiling. She could only stand, frozen in shock.

 _Don't just stand there, Lizzy! Move!_

There was more than a hint of urgency in Jane's voice. Panic-stricken, she tugged with all her might at the stubborn sash but it remained firmly in place. Her lungs began to burn. Pulling a t-shirt from her nearby chest of drawers, Elizabeth fashioned a mask over her nose and mouth. Trying her window again, her clammy hands slipped. Her fingers were useless against the painted wood. Panic rose steadily as did her attempts for air. Her chest tightened. Glancing back, the fire was advancing, crawling toward her, curling the small woven rugs she had on the hardwood floors.

 _Break the window, Lizzy!_

Breathless, she fumbled around her nightstand and grabbed the first solid thing her hands found. Her lamp. She threw it against the window and the glass shattered. Dragging her comforter over the window frame, she carefully wiggled through it before thudding unceremoniously onto the awaiting, cold inhospitable fire escape. For all of her efforts, a bitter blast of October air raked painfully over her as sleet stung her face.

Shivering, she gained her footing to only slip when her bare feet encountered pieces of the broken window. Falling forward, she screamed gripping the railing and preventing a fall. Not trusting her legs, she slid to her butt, grazing her head painfully against the handrail. A kaleidoscope of color filled her vision. She shook her head to clear it and took a lungful of fresh air. Even though she was terrified, she forced herself to navigate the narrow structure slowly. Like a caterpillar, she inched slowly, pulling her body forward and downward. She was conscious of every groan the rickety structure made and prayed it would hold until she was out of harm's way.

It seemed like an eternity, but finally the welcomed firmness of earth was beneath her. She was immediately met by a fire fighter who helped her to a nearby ambulance. There she was made to put on an oxygen mask by an EMT. The efficient medical professional quickly assessed her for smoke inhalation and wrapped her in a warm blanket. Others were already in the ambulances on either side of her. She recognized the old man from two floors above her, the woman who kept cats on the first floor, the young woman with the baby from the top floor. They had all made it out. More survivors joined them through the billowing smoke. Some of their own volition but more often than not with the assistance of firefighters. Some were moaning loudly in pain while others were dull and lifeless.

She knew she must be in shock, but could not tear her eyes away. It was surreal, like she was watching a movie. Personnel dashed about pulling heavy hoses forward, spraying the buildings on either side of her apartment building, others were tending those injured. It seemed wrong that she was sitting and watching instead of assisting. But, she could not budge from her safe perch. Could not tear her eyes away from all that was going on around her. With tears in her eyes, she watched the twelve storey building, her only home in New York, quickly succumb to flames.

"Do you have anyone you can call?" A kindly red-cross volunteer asked when it was clear she was alright.

The idea of going to the hospital when Elizabeth knew she was fine or being alone at a shelter did not appeal. She gave the volunteer Phillip & Malcolm's number, but their answering machine came on. They tried Georgiana next but met with similar results. She even tried Max, believing he could get a message to the fellas, but his phone was out of minutes. No matter how hard she tried, she could not recall the other band member's numbers, having only called them once before programming their number into her cell. Chewing her lip, she gave them the only other number she knew by heart of someone who lived in New York City.

"Elizabeth?" She hadn't really expected Darcy to answer, but when he did, she had never heard a more wonderful sound than his sleepy voice.

"Will." His name came out wheezy. Her throat was still scratchy from the smoke. Even if he was out of town, it was good to hear his voice. He would send someone to meet her. She coughed. She took a deep breath, gasping. The cold air felt like a balm to her lungs.

She heard him fumbling, his voice shedding its sleep. "Elizabeth? What's wrong? Where are you?" Suddenly, Elizabeth couldn't explain what happened. It was too much. She couldn't hold back the emotions welling inside of her and she simply burst into tears. Darcy's voice became increasingly demanding. "Elizabeth? Are you alright? Where are you? Damn it, answer me."

The kind woman who was assisting her took the phone from her to explain the situation. There had been a fire. She had nowhere to go. Could he come and retrieve her? When the woman hung up, she smiled compassionately. "He said he's on his way. He'll be here within the hour."

Of course, Darcy arrived in half that time.

Elizabeth saw him first, a quarter of a block away, striding in that confident conquering way he had. She was glad to have the few seconds to prepare herself. Even though she knew he was going to give her the lecture of a lifetime, the relief the sight of him brought was immense.

When he stopped in front of her, she raised a hand in the direction of the charred remains. "You were right. I should've moved. I should've listened to you." She was determined to not get weepy again, but it was difficult. "Everything's gone, Will. All of my pictures of Jane, the clothes you bought me. Everything I brought with me. It's all gone."

"Belongings can be replaced."

She shut her eyes, suddenly remembering something else lost in the fire. "All my song books, Will. They're all gone too."

"Enough! Not another word about things." Their height was even from her spot in the back of the ambulance. He cupped her face in his hands gently, tilting her chin as he catalogued her injuries. It was impossible not to look at him. Impossible not to see the concern in his eyes. "I paged my family doctor on my way here. I think I should take you to see him just so we can be sure you are okay."

"No," she smiled at his predictability. "I'm fine. I promise. I'm just a little shook up."

Darcy seemed unsure, as if trying to ascertain if she were telling the truth. Finally, he released her. Shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans as he studied the chaos around them. She caught his profile in the semi-darkness. While he didn't look rested exactly, his skin was tan from days spent under the tropical sun. Elizabeth felt guilty for calling him away from his warm bed—and _the good friend_ he was probably sharing it with— to deal with her mess.

"Will, I'm sorry I interrupted your vacation."

His attention snapped back to her. Anger flickered to life in his eyes, but his voice remained gentle. "You didn't interrupt anything." He returned to stand in front of her. "I'm only glad I came back yesterday afternoon instead of staying away the rest of the week." She was glad he was back in New York too. Everything was going to be fine now that he was here. He'd know what to do to put things right. "Do you have any idea how I would've felt if I saw news of the fire and I didn't know what happened to you? How frantic I would've been?"

Lowering her head, because she could not continue to meet his eyes, she almost wished he would rail at her about not moving. Remind her that he'd been right about the place being unsafe. Tell her he had told her so. Be mean. Give way to his temper. She would know how to act to that behavior.

An EMT passed close by just then and Darcy hailed him. The worker confirmed what the volunteer had indicated to him on the phone. Elizabeth was free to go as long as someone remained with her through the night to observe her.

"That's fine. I'll watch over her closely since she'll be staying with me."

Elizabeth made a sound of objection, catching his attention again. "That's not necessary, Will. I can stay in a hotel, or you could drop me at _The Hole._ You don't have to disrupt your entire evening for me. I can manage on my own."

"Absolutely not." His dark look silenced her. "We're not going to argue about this. You're coming home with me. I will look after you. End of discussion. Understand?"

Exhausted, Elizabeth nodded. Her refusal had been all bluster. She found she didn't have the energy to argue with him. Resigned to her fate, she unwrapped the blanket the volunteer had given her, and his eyes widened at her state of undress.

"Where are your shoes? Your coat?"

"There wasn't any time to grab them." Her tone was sharper than she intended. But, really, did he think she wanted to be out here in only her cow jumped over the moon flannel pajamas? Stepping down gingerly from the back of the ambulance, Elizabeth winced loudly. She'd forgotten entirely to mention the glass she stepped on in all of the excitement of the fire. Walking stiffly forward, she made it perhaps two steps before Darcy swung her into his arms, leaving her no choice but to wrap hers around his neck.

"You said you weren't hurt." He accused.

"I'm not." His gaze narrowed prompting her to add, "Not really. I just stepped on some glass."

There was that anger again playing at odds with his gentleness. "And, when was your last tetanus shot?"

"Two years ago. I'm fine, Will. I can walk on my own. Honestly."

"You are crazy if you think I'm going to let you walk barefoot in all of this mess." He shifted and tightened his hold on her.

"You can't carry me. I'm too heavy. Please put me down." She begged, then she tried to wriggle to get him to put her down, "You'll hurt yourself."

"Shut up!" He snapped, glaring at her. This was more like it. She was familiar with a moody, disgruntled Darcy. "Quit squirming. Or, I swear I'll throw you over my shoulder and give everyone here a nice view of your derriere."

"You wouldn't dare!"

He didn't look like he was joking. She forced herself to relax against him.

Without her struggling, Darcy was able to cover impressive ground. She wasn't surprised to see Sal waiting for them at the end of her street. As her producer lowered her into the back seat, he instructed his driver to turn up the heat as far as it would go. Once she was settled, he shrugged out of his coat and ordered her into it before hauling her across his lap. Wrapping both of his arms around her, he began rubbing his hands against her back, warming her.

There was no sound but hands on fabric for several blocks.

He broke the silence by grumbling, "It's barely twenty out and sleeting. You're soaking wet. You could've caught pneumonia, sitting out exposed like that. How was it that you were barefoot, and no one thought to check your feet? Just exactly how incompetent were the responding emergency workers?"

She thought of all the kindness shown to her on this night. "It's my fault. I didn't say anything."

He said something under his breath but she couldn't make him out until he questioned, "Why didn't you tell someone that you were injured? That you were cold?"

"I didn't want to complain." She admitted as his hands canvassed the expanse of her back. "I just have a few bumps and bruises, and there were so many people with serious injuries."

"Serious injuries?" His entire body coiled. "God damn it, Elizabeth."

She winced at the rough edge to his voice but snuggled closer to reassure him. "I'm okay. Really, I promise. I'm just a little cold."

His hands moved quicker along her back, generating friction. "Is this any better? Are you any warmer?"

"Oh, yes. This feels rather wonderful." Being held so by him was an experience. His body was invitingly solid. His arms strong. His scent clean and exotic. She gravitated closer to him, burying her cheek against his neck. It was safe here. With him. Exhausted, her eyes drifted close.

After they arrived at his penthouse, Darcy ignored her pleas to put her down until he dropped her roughly onto one of the expensive couches in his living room. She made to move off the couch not wanting to stain it, but he warned her, "I am going to get the first aid kit. Stay right there or I swear you'll regret it."

As she wisely and uncharacteristically obeyed him, Darcy went to the bathroom. He needed a few moments of privacy to collect himself. Holding onto the sink he struggled mightily to get his bearings. She should have moved out from that slum the minute her advance check cleared. He'd warned her she wasn't safe there. Repeatedly. Why hadn't she listened to him? Because she was too stubborn for her own good. Because she enjoyed flaunting her ability to defy his simplest request. Because she enjoyed driving him crazy! Suddenly spanking her until she developed a healthy sense of self-preservation or yelling at her until he was hoarse seemed like logical things to do. Deep down, though, he knew neither would ultimately make him feel better.

When he returned to her, Elizabeth was shivering. Of course, she was cold! She was soaked through and left to sit out in the back of an open ambulance in the frosty October air with unattended injuries. Anger resurfaced. He had a good mind to call the mayor about the incident or threaten to revoke his annual donation to the American Red Cross. For now, those calls could wait.

Everything could wait until he tended to her comfort.

Darcy replaced his jacket with one of the largest towel he brought with him. Rubbing her shoulders, he watched with relief as color began to return to her pale cheeks. Satisfied, he shook out a couple of aspirin and ordered her to take them. She obeyed.

Then, Elizabeth glanced up at him looking like some sort of misfit orphan.

That one vulnerable, searching look undid him.

The truth of what could have happened brought him to his knees. She could have died! So strong was the need to have physical confirmation that she was safe, he couldn't help but crush her against him. Her softness was a pleasant reminder of her femininity, her fragility. The instinct to make her his in every way crushed him with its urgency.

Eventually, Elizabeth pulled back from him, pressing her hands against his shoulders. "There, I've done it. I've ruined your coat and now your shirt too."

"I don't care." He whispered. He didn't care. The urge to kiss her was all around him.

Shaking his head, Darcy was determined to do the right thing. He needed to tend to her wounds and not pounce on her like a sex starved lunatic! Dipping a wash cloth in the basin, wringing out the excess water, he dabbed lightly at the side of her face.

Her breath hissed when he brushed her cheek gently. "Is it bad?"

He took in her puffy eyes, the red nose, her soot streaked face, and what looked like a nasty bruise forming at her temple. Never had she looked more beautiful. She was the most glorious sight. "You look like you always look to me, Elizabeth." She frowned and looked at her toes reminding him of her other injuries. "Now let me look at those feet of yours."

Darcy lifted her right foot in his hand. She stiffened but he was in no mood to listen to her arguments. He held her stubborn glance for a few moments before her resistance gave way. Working carefully, he located several small pieces of glass embedded in her heel and removed them as gently as he could with tweezers. When he ran his fingers over her smooth sole trying to detect any other pieces, her calf muscles tightened in his hand and she pulled her leg toward her resisting him.

She bit her bottom lip, admitting, "My feet are ticklish."

Ignoring his body's heady response to this new piece of information, Darcy continued to work. Done, he repeated the entire process with her other foot until he was satisfied all the glass had been removed from both. He picked up his supplies. "Let me see what I can find to get you out of these wet clothes."

After taking the items back to the bathroom, he went to Georgie's room. Not finding anything that appealed in the limited selection of clothes there, he went to search his own. He grabbed the top to his favorite PJs and a pair of new boxers. When he returned to her, he found her still on the couch sniffing the ends of her hair.

Caught, she said ruefully, "My hair smells like an ashtray. I'm rather disgusting."

Disgusting? True, she looked as if she had gone through an ordeal, but she was perfection. "You could take a shower or I can run a bath for you if you want."

"A bath? In a real bathtub?" She closed her eyes dreamily. "I haven't had one of those since I came to New York."

"Well, that certainly settles that." He scooped her up off the couch, carried her through his master bedroom into his personal bathroom. He deposited her gently on the side of the tub before he opened a cabinet from which he retrieved a bottle with crystal flakes in it. Shaking it, he asked her seriously, "Now comes the big question, bubbles or no bubbles?"

"Definitely bubbles." She giggled, the sound causing a new ache within him. "I can't imagine you take bubble baths, Will."

"No, not me." He didn't enjoy them, but Georgie often used his tub when she visited from college. Her bathroom, like the one in the guestroom, had only a full size shower. He concentrated on getting the water the perfect temperature for her. After shaking in some bath flakes, he placed Georgie's shampoo and conditioner along the tub and located some clean towels for her to use.

"I can take it from here." She would not look at him.

"No, I'll stay. You could fall and hurt yourself. At least, let me help you get settled."

A blush deepened across her cheeks and down her neck, bringing delicious color to her otherwise pale skin. "I can't undress in front of you, Will."

"I won't look," he said quickly, not entirely sure if he was telling her the truth.

Elizabeth eyed the enticing water before her. She clearly wanted what he was offering. She looked at him with wide eyes. "Do you swear?"

"I'll try my best not to." There. That was at least much closer to the truth.

Careful not to drop her towel, Elizabeth slipped her legs out of her pajama bottoms, and he knelt, helping her when they got caught on her injured feet. When she was ready, he stood taking the towel and shutting his eyes tightly so she could pull her top over her head. He heard her wince twice and then the splash of the water signaled that she'd settled herself in the tub.

Instead of stripping down and joining her as his body begged him to do, he turned from her and engaged the jets in the tub. He smiled at her delighted squeal. When he finally dared to look, she was buried up to her neck under concealing bubbles.

"This is great!" She beamed up at him, running a finger through the froth in front of her. "I bet you could fit two or three people in here at the same time. It's like your very own mini-swimming pool!"

Elizabeth was killing him, flirting like this. Didn't she know that his self-control was at an end? Watching her, the generous room seemed to shrink. There was only her, him and the inviting tub in which they both could comfortably fit. Should he offer to help her wash? The idea short circuited his nervous system. He took a step back from her.

"I'll give you some privacy. Yell for me when you are done and I'll help you out."

Time passed. The hands on the clock indicted it had. Each minute seemed like a lifetime. He had changed back into pajama bottoms trying in vain to ignore the sensations caused by each new sound he heard coming from his bathroom. What he should do and what he desperately, desperately wanted to do with Elizabeth was tearing him up. Tonight, it was abundantly clear what a failed experiment his vacation had been. Instead of reducing his desire for her, the separation had only made him want her more.

When Elizabeth called out his name, Darcy discovered she'd already gotten out of the tub herself. She'd wrapped a towel, turban style, around her hair and another was secured around her in the valley between her breasts. That fragile makeshift dam of cloth firmly held his attention. The creamy skin beneath it, he knew, would be warm, moist and soft. He wanted to taste her skin. No, he wanted to suck it dry.

"Do you have any lotion I could use?" His mind had turned sluggish as it tried to understand her request. It was as if she was speaking a foreign language. She wrinkled that perfect nose. "My skin turns scaly like a crocodile if I don't put some on right after I step out of a hot bath or shower."

"I'll see what I can find." In his sister's bathroom, when he could get his hands to stop shaking, Darcy found two bottles of lotion. One was floral and thick and he rejected it at once. The other smelled musky and feminine. Definitely, Elizabeth. His mind effortlessly inserted him into the process of applying lotion to her skin and his arousal kicked up a notch. It was becoming unbearable.

When he returned to her, Elizabeth flipped her wet hair back over her shoulders, giving him a welcoming smile as she continued absently towel drying her hair. "You found some, great."

After putting the bottle on the sink, Darcy fled the bathroom. He didn't know what to do with himself. Flittering around, he checked his security system, retrieved water from the kitchen, then double checked the readiness of his guest room. He turned down the bed, satisfied the sheets and pillow cases were clean and fresh. Appraising the room with a critical eye, nothing seemed amiss. She would be comfortable in here. Returning to his own bedroom, he waited and paced like a caged animal.

When the door finally opened, Darcy turned and his heart jackknifed in his chest. Backlit by the light from the bathroom, she stopped in the doorway a moment. His top lingered enticingly around her thighs, and her damp hair curled wildly down her back. The definition of sexy rewrote itself in his mind as she shyly looked at him.

Drawn, Darcy closed the space between them, took her into his arms and carried her the short distance to his own bed. He dropped her on top of it unceremoniously, causing her to bounce once. Giggling, she used her elbows to work herself backwards up to the pillows, fluffing them to her preference. Satisfied, she glanced up at him looking regal, like a queen on her throne.

Darcy's resistance snapped like a twig in a tornado.

Joining Elizabeth was the most natural movement of his life. Something infinitely male growled within him as sudden awareness flared in her lovely eyes. Pressed under the length of him, she could no longer pretend ignorance of his arousal. Her lips parted and there was no force in this world that could have made him resist such a perfect invitation.

Kissing him was like touching an electrical outlet— a zing that had ripped all along the corridor of her body, making her toes curl. When Darcy joined her, she had been startled. Nothing about his behavior that evening had even hinted as to him being interested in her. Surprise gave way to other dangerous emotions as his persistent mouth raided and plundered hers until she was breathless. One kiss became another, each one exploring and conquering more territory.

She had not been the innocent spectator. Oh, no. Her hands had moved over him. One became firmly entrenched in his dark curls while the other played at his shoulders, drawing him closer. He moaned as her hand traveled down his spine, such a sexy sound against her neck. She felt like the beaches of Normandy being attacked on all fronts - touch, smell, taste, sight, sound. She'd never felt so completely dominated by another. Never before felt this strange, restless sense of exhilaration.

But, then, she had never before received the attentions of someone like Will Darcy.He plundered the soft skin from her ear to her clavicle with kisses with all intentions of heading south. Her skin snapped to life at his touch. The scruffy whiskers growing along his chin further heightened her arousal. A power surge rolled in her belly.

With shaking hands, Elizabeth tried to block his intended path. He responded by pulling one hand over her head, his fingers sweetly entwining with hers, while his hot mouth continued toward the swell of her breast. Her nipples were hardening in expectation. She was so terrifyingly close to losing control of her own body. This was madness. The buttons on the shirt gave way to his practiced hand. One nipple disappeared into his mouth. And, the sensation caused her to come off the bed entirely. He lapped at her while his other hand worked on freeing her from the confines of her clothing. Then, she moaned when he gave her other breast the same attention. The shirt was pulled from beneath her and flung away from them. He had been almost vulgar in telling her exactly what he wanted to do to her and was equally graphic in what he wanted in return. Instead of turning her off, it was arousing to hear him speak so.

"I want to be inside you, Elizabeth."

His hands began tugging, peeling her briefs off. Out of efficiency, she found herself being a partner in the endeavor. Freed quickly from her last piece of clothing, his hands followed the smoothness of her thigh upward to the wet apex between her legs. With a deft and experienced hand, he stroked her folds. She was soaked, but forgot all about her maidenly embarrassment when he touched her clit. It felt too wonderful. She could not stop herself from responding, from showing her appreciation for his skill.

Their kisses deepened, the pressing of his body against hers became more frantic. Like a master on a violin, he subtly shifted the position of his hand so his thumb continued the motion she found so pleasurable while one, then two fingers probed her. She moaned. Nothing had ever felt so good. No act. No man. Unable to stop herself, she milked his digits. She was over-stimulated and found herself wanting so much more of him.

Suddenly, he stopped, hovering above her. "Tell me, Elizabeth, what is it you want?"

She could not breathe. She felt as if she was standing on the pin of a needle. Precarious. Her body felt like it was on fire. Only, he knew how to extinguish her. Quench her. The decision she made here in his bed would have consequences. She knew that. For now, though, nothing was more important than what he was doing to her body. "You."

He growled, "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"I want you inside me." Her voice sounded thready. Needy.

Darcy rolled away from her. She was disappointed until she realized he was freeing himself of his bottoms. She heard him open a drawer of his nightstand, there was a sound of a condom wrapper being opened and then he was back at her side. As he rose above her, she felt his penis, thick and hard, rub against her thigh. Her body throbbed in response. Spreading her legs as far as he could, he prepared to mount her. He was at her entrance, she felt the largeness of his head. "Elizabeth, I'm going to make you forget about any man you've ever had before me. You are going to cum for me. And, when you do, I want you to scream out my name. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes."

Without any other warning, he pressed forward roughly, thrusting himself satisfyingly deep within her. She was a good student. It did not take long before she gave him exactly what he wanted.

12


	12. Chapter 8 Part 2

Thanks to everyone for their condolences. My mother was an amazing woman. She used to read my first stories and always encouraged my writing. She was a very, very special woman who I was blessed to have raise me.

Now, onto the story! Fibby and my wonderful editor corrected what they could, suggested where they would but I still tinkered with the final post. Any errors you find are mine and mine alone. I will try to get back on my normal posting routine. I'm on vacation from work, so I will see what I can whip up for your reading pleasure.

 **Girl Is On Fire**

 **Chapter 8: Part 2**

" _I don't do regrets. Regrets are pointless. It's too late for regrets. You've already done it, haven't you? You've lived your life. No point wishing you could change it."_ _  
_ _―_ _Lemmy Kilmister_

It was fortunate that she woke up alone, Elizabeth decided the next morning. She needed time to gather her courage before facing Darcy. At first she was convinced it had all been a dream, but when she opened her eyes it was clear she was definitely not in Kansas anymore. The luxurious bedroom with its dark blue and silver furnishings could only have one owner. The fact she was completely nude and deliciously sore only supported the fact their fevered night had happened. She groaned loudly, flopping back against the softness of the pillows, as she tried to come to grips with the two equally startling events from the previous night.

First, the fire destroying her apartment and all of her worldly possessions. The only thing of value she'd left to her name in the entire state of New York was a pair of pajamas. And they weren't even her favorite pair. Wherever they were currently.

Second, what she had done with William Darcy. _How had she let this happen? How was she ever going to face him again_? Covering her face with her hands, Elizabeth knew. She was vulnerable because she hadn't been with a man since coming to New York. And, Darcy was definitely not just _any_ man. He was like the banana split of men! All the decadence a woman could ever want, wrapped into one devastatingly attractive package of intelligence, talent and masculinity.

She hadn't even put up much of a fight! A few kisses and she'd capitulated completely. Several times. Once, it had turned out, was not enough. After their first encounter, she had dozed briefly only to awaken in the dark with the feel of his mouth stimulating her orally. No matter how much she begged, he refused to stop until she climaxed. As her body was still quivering from her own pleasure, he slid up her body determined to partake in his own. Their second union did not last long before he collapsed against her spent. The third time followed on the heels of the second and lasted a good deal longer. Dawn was breaking when he pulled her across his chest holding her flush against his heated body. Drowsily, she realized Darcy was not perfect. He snored.

Elizabeth shut her eyes. She had to get it together. She had an overwhelming, panicky urge to sneak out of the apartment without seeing him. _Wearing what, precisely? In what clothes?_ She glanced at the impressive walk-in closet across from the bed. Surely, something he had would fit her. _How will you leave?_ She had no money to take a cab, no phone to call anyone, or even a shoes to wear on her feet. There was no way to avoid it. She would have to suck it up and see Darcy again before leaving.

Maybe it wouldn't be awkward.

It wasn't as if Darcy wasn't used to waking up with strange women every day. She just had to play it cool. While he may be more acquainted with her than most of the women who ended up in his bed, what was one more woman to him? There was certainly nothing special about her. Nothing special about last night. She was just another slot in an impressively long list of notches on his bed post.

Elizabeth shook her head. She should not be lying in his bed thinking about this. She should be up, trying to fit the pieces of her life back together. Trying to be nonchalant about last night as he would be. She should not be thinking about sex. Not thinking about how good sex with him was. Definitely, not be thinking about how her body desperately wanted to have sex with him again. Soon. She pulled the covers over her head. She was just going to hide for a few more minutes.

That's when she smelt it—the intoxicating blend of coffee and, she sniffed the air, bacon. Sitting up, Elizabeth was stunned to see that it was already well after eleven. Shimmying to the edge of the bed, she dropped her feet to the floor experimentally. Her feet were a little stiff, but she could walk on them. Other muscles were definitely more sore. She shut her eyes and reiterated her earlier mantra. No thinking about last night's activities! She found the clothes he had loaned her the previous night folded neatly at the foot of the bed and put them on.

Desperate for a caffeine fix, she padded carefully toward the source of the delicious aroma.

She heard his voice before she saw him.

"That'll be perfect, Tracy. After we're done with breakfast, I'll bring her by. Yes, I'll make sure you get the tickets Paul mentioned as soon as her tour schedule is worked out. Yes, I can arrange that. Three tickets for you and your girls and I'll even throw in some back stage passes. Elizabeth will want to thank you personally. It's so great that you are being so understanding about the situation. We really appreciate this favor."

Rounding the doorway that led to the kitchen, Elizabeth stopped. Bare-chested and barefoot, Darcy looked as if he had just crawled out of bed. His curls were mussed, his jaw-line was covered in fine stubble and he wore a pair of pajama bottoms hung low on his hips which only emphasized the tightness of his abs.

The sight of him was enough to make a woman swoon. She had been intimate with this man. She almost whimpered. She should have escaped nude into the streets of New York.

Unaware of her presence, he hung up the phone, moving to the front of his stove, dancing in time with the music coming from hidden speakers as he whisked what appeared to be eggs in a bowl. He looked _happy_ and _carefree_. Neither of which were normal adjectives she'd ever associated with him. Elizabeth was quite certain she was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. There was no way this was real. There was no way he was dancing in his kitchen! She rubbed her eyes. Could she have died in the fire? Could she be in a coma? These scenarios seemed more likely than what she was witnessing.

Before she could recover, Darcy turned to get something from the fridge catching sight of her in the doorway. All movement stopped. "You're up."

"Yes. Or at least, I think I am." Elizabeth ran a hand nervously to her hair, cursing the fact she hadn't first consulted a mirror before her caffeine fix this morning. She probably looked a sight. She hadn't even brushed her teeth.

"I was just making breakfast for us." He crossed his arms across his chest, then lowered them. He started to say something else then stopped. He looked at his feet, then her, then the stove. It was an odd succession of movement and sound. Finally, he nodded toward the counter. "Nothing fancy I assure you. Omelets and bacon. I was going to bring it to you in bed."

Bed?

"If it's alright with you, I'll just take coffee in here." She gravitated to the coffee maker on the counter, looking anywhere but at him, wishing herself miles away from this encounter. "I'm not really hungry."

"Are you sure? I woke up starving." From the sounds behind her, he was searching the fridge for some ingredients. She heard the door shut. "I can't honestly remember the last time I slept in this late. It has to have been years."

"If left to it, I could sleep until noon every day."

"I know." He cheerfully agreed, "Why do you think I call you every morning?"

Elizabeth stood in helpless confusion at the various knobs and handles of the machine that bore a resemblance to a small steam engine. Where was the damn start button? Leave it to Darcy to have a machine that required an engineering degree to work. All she wanted was some damn coffee! She gave sound to her frustration. Suddenly, he was there to assist her, snaking a hand around her waist, while his other lifted the mug from her hand. "Allow me."

When the stubble of his cheek rubbed against the column of her neck, every nerve in Elizabeth's body rippled into life. Echoes from the previous night reverberated through her. Quickly, he produced a mug with steaming coffee. "Here you go."

"Thanks," she took her mug back and edged out of his embrace. She hurriedly took a seat at the breakfast table, grateful to put a piece of heavy furniture between them. She did not want to go back to the bedroom. Distance between her and that bed was needed. When she let herself look in his direction again, she found he was watching her. Closely.

There was a loud popping sound. "Will?"

"Yes?"

"I think you are burning your bacon."

Cursing, he attended to his cooking. Blissful silence reigned and Elizabeth drank it in as deeply as her coffee. She struggled for a sense of normalcy.

"Since we slept in, you missed your appointment this morning with Dr. Tanner's office. I've already called and explained what happened last night. They are going to call us back when he has a chance to check his schedule for a makeup appointment. I also spoke with Georgie," he began chopping an onion in time with the beat of the song. "She called me frantic when she got your message this morning."

She lowered her mug. "You didn't tell her I stayed here with you, did you?"

He poured his concoction into a skillet. Checking the heat, he turned to face her. His brow furrowed, "Why wouldn't I tell her?"

"No reason." Elizabeth had hoped that their night together would not become common knowledge.

His cell rang, he checked the ID before answering warmly, "Yvette, thanks for not keeping me waiting." She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "And, just how long will that take? You know I want only the best." He smiled in a satisfied way. "I cannot wait for you to show it to me. When can we meet?"

Elizabeth could only guess what Darcy wanted Yvette to show him. He was predictable.

"Perfect. You do not disappoint. I look forward to seeing you. Tonight, it is."

Tonight was Yvette. Last night was her. He'd woken in Cabo with a good friend just the previous morning. She felt nauseated over what had occurred between them. She was just another woman to him. It didn't make her feel one iota better that the sex had been mind-blowing. Of course he was a good lover, look at the practice he had. William Darcy was a man-whore! "Yes, of course, we can continue our discussion from earlier this week -" As if he knew she was thinking poorly of him, Darcy cast a look in her direction frowning, "just not right now. I'm busy with something important." After breaking off his call, Darcy used his spatula to transfer his creation to a plate. "Sorry about that. How are you feeling? You feet?"

"Well, I won't be dancing the cha-cha anytime soon, but I think I'll live."

He laughed. He sprinkled some cheese over the folded perfection, added a few pieces of crisp bacon to her plate and then placed it in front of her. "Eat."

Under his watchful gaze, Elizabeth took a test bite and discovered the omelet tasted wonderful, and, contrary to her earlier claim, she was really quite famished. He was clearly expecting a verdict. "It's delicious."

"I'm glad to hear it." He shrugged, then ran a hand through his hair. "The only woman I've ever cooked for before was Georgie. She liked it when I made her pancakes."

It was an image she'd rather not have of him. Crunching the bacon, she was delighted it was the real thing and not turkey. He was still staring at her. She wiped her mouth. "I've never had a man cook breakfast for me before so I guess we're even."

"Peter never made you breakfast?"

The question almost ruined her appetite completely. Peter, cook? For her? She nearly laughed at the idea. Shortly after their engagement, her fiancé had made it quite clear that after they were married, he expected a traditional wife. One to cook whatever he wanted, wear the clothes he deemed appropriate for the occasion and perform all of her womanly duties when and where he wanted. It had been the first of many unexpected revelations. None of which she was going to share with the man before her. Elizabeth took another bite of her eggs. He was still staring, expecting an answer. "Peter's talent was not in the kitchen."

Her answer caused him to look away from her. She half expected Darcy to re-question her as to why they had broken off their engagement, but he didn't. He turned his attention on making his own omelet. By the time he joined her, carrying his own plate and mug to the table, Elizabeth was sensitive to his every movement. She found herself curious about this woman named Yvette. Was she the woman he had taken to Cabo? She could not seem to think of anything other than topics that would drift off into that dangerous subject. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was jealous his attention had moved on already to another woman. She was starting to get a headache.

"Georgie mentioned that you might want to try to call Malcolm and Phillip."

"You're right, I really should call them. They are probably worried sick about me." She rose to retrieve her phone from her purse, remembered suddenly the fate of both items, and sat back down heavily. "Can I borrow your phone?"

Darcy handed it to her, and she stared it as dumbly as she had his coffee maker. He chuckled, took the phone back from her and entered the number she gave him. Once it was ringing, he handed it back to her. She fumbled her way through a hurried message that she was fine, she'd spent the night with _a friend_ and that she'd call them back when she had a new phone. She ended the call and handed the phone back to him carefully so her hand did not touch his.

When they were done with breakfast, he insisted he take her plate and dealt with the dishes while she relaxed and finished a second cup of coffee. As she watched him doing a mundane thing as dishes, her manners kicked in.

"Will, I want thank you for last night. It was—" She struggled for an adequate adjective.

He'd dried his hands on a kitchen towel before leaning against the island, patiently waiting for her to finish. The intensity made it hard for her to keep making eye contact with him. She felt herself blush. "Last night, Elizabeth." He cleared his throat, "You have to know that last night -" Here it came. The brush off. _Last night was a mistake. It meant nothing_. A bell rang from somewhere interrupting him. He sighed loudly, "That's probably Georgie. She was going to stop by with some things for you. It was too much to hope that we'd have more time to ourselves, wasn't it?"

Elizabeth followed him reluctantly into the great room, not really wanting any sort of company. The less witnesses the better. She needed to get out of here and fast. It was Georgiana. His sister handed her bags from various stores to Darcy and then hugged her tightly. "You don't know how scared I was this morning when I got your message. Lizzy, if something had happened to you, Will and I would've been devastated."

No matter how many times Elizabeth assured the younger woman she was fine, Georgie refused to release her. Turning to face Darcy to indicate he should intervene, Elizabeth was annoyed to find him not in the least anxious to assist her. Finally, she was released from his sister's python-like grip. Georgiana launched into a lecture about her safety. She should've moved months ago to a safer apartment. What was she thinking, still living in that death trap?

"You sound just like Will!"

"Do I?" Elizabeth was horrified to see Georgiana glance from Darcy back to her, blue eyes shrewdly latching on to the matching parts of the same outfit, before she turned back to face Elizabeth. The conclusion his sister had arrived at about the events of the previous night was written all over her face. Worse, her young friend looked simply ecstatic at her assumption.

It was too much!

Expressing gratitude for the clothes, Elizabeth mugged Darcy for the bags before retreating back to what she hoped was a guest room, leaving him alone to face his sister's inquisition. Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed, she returned to the living room, kicking herself that her flight had probably only served to strengthen Georgie's assumptions. The urge to sneak out and grab a cab to _The Hole_ was overpowering.

"That was pretty cowardly leaving me to face Georgie all alone."

Yelping at the sound of his voice, Elizabeth covered her heart. Darcy had showered, shaved and changed as well in the short time she had been away. Dressed in a suit and tie, he looked as he always did, unflappably businesslike. Fantastically perfect. Wearing a warm smile, he came forward carrying a coat that looked just like the one she lost in the fire. Georgiana had been busy. After Darcy helped her into it, he stopped her attempt to put distance between them with a hand on her hip.

A riot of nerves awoke at the feel of his hot breath against the sensitive skin of her neck. "You don't have to worry about Georgie. You seemed a little embarrassed about last night so I took the opportunity you provided to speak with her. Your friendship is important to the both of you, and I didn't want you to feel awkward around one another."

Elizabeth was annoyed. She could only imagine how Darcy described their evening together. Having Georgie think she was just one of the mindless troop of trollops that jumped in and out of his bed was humiliating. _Why in God's name would he tell her such a thing?_ She pulled away from him, giving him what she hoped would pass for a normal smile. "I think I'm going to start my day by checking my apartment and seeing if there's anything salvageable, then I guess I'll—"

She stopped, not having any earthly idea what she should do. How did one begin putting her life back into order after a fire?

"That's not necessary. While you were sleeping, I had Sal drive down this morning. Your place is a total write off. I'm sorry, Elizabeth. Truly I am. He took some pictures for your insurance company but there's nothing left." He placed a hand against her cheek, drawing her forward, while his lips lightly grazed her forehead. "When I think, you could've died —"

Nerves fraying at his closeness, she put a hand on his chest, giving her more distance from him. Stepping back from him, she forced another smile, "I'm not in the mood for another lecture from another Darcy."

"I wasn't going to lecture you." The humor that had been evident in his face earlier that morning was gone completely. He stepped closer to her. A hand settled on her hip. Holding her hostage. "You have to promise me that you will take your safety more seriously. There are a lot of people who care about your welfare. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for us."

Elizabeth couldn't look at him. Where was the arrogant, unfeeling William Darcy? The tyrannical task master? She wanted to see _him_ this morning, and not the caring, considerate man that Georgie spoke of so lovingly. She was vulnerable to this man. Defenseless. Especially after last night's adventure.

He blew out a breath. "I guess if you insist on seeing it for yourself, we can go there this morning. I thought it would only upset you and I wanted to spare you that pain. Everything is gone."

Everything was gone. The loss of her pictures of Jane and her song books, irreplaceable things, hit her like a wave. Elizabeth fought back against the tears.

"Don't. Please don't cry. I can't bear you crying." Darcy cradled her head against his shoulder, his fingers gently stroking along her spinal column. "It tears me up that I can't do anything to fix this for you. Richard is already in contact with the fire department and he'll contact your insurance company on your behalf when the report is ready. "I'm taking the day off so we can take care of the other things that need to be addressed."

Her head was swimming at his proximity. She needed to get away from him. He unbalanced her. "What things would that be?"

"First, your ID. Paul has a sister, Tracey, who works at the DMV. Once we've got your identification sorted out, we'll stop by your bank and transfer your account to a new one. With identity theft, you cannot be too safe."

"No, you can't." Elizabeth responded dully. The practical minded Darcy was a relief to the tender one. However, the longer he held her, the more uncomfortable she grew. Memories of last night were gathering energy. An ache started in her core.

Seemingly unaware of her discomfort, Darcy worked his way through his extensive list. "We'll get you a cell phone, some new clothes, then grab an early dinner." It was incredible he could put the jumble of her life together so easily. "And, later we'll see the vacant unit I have in this building."

Elizabeth stiffened at the statement. Not the apartment thing again. He must have felt her response, because he added, "There's no pressure to take it. You can take as much time as you need to make a decision. You're welcome to stay here with me as long as you like. There's no hurry whatsoever for you to leave." He kissed her hair. "After we see it, we'll come back here and make an early night of it. You need to rest since you didn't get much last night."

Her body literally rejoiced at the invitation as she fought against her response. An early night? When was he going to see Yvette? After he was done tucking her in? Her throat was dry as she croaked, "I can't stay here with you."

"Sure, you can." Darcy tilted her face up to his. Her eyes flew to his lips sick with the thought he might kiss her. His smile wilted at its corners, seriousness settling over his features. "I'm not suggesting that we have to sleep together again." Of course not, he already got what he wanted from her. After all, he had tonight's entertainment lined up. She shut her eyes. "You can stay in the guest room. You are welcome to stay there for as long as it takes."

 _As long as it takes, for what?_ There was no way she could ask that question. No way she could spend a day with him. And definitely not another night. She did not possess the necessary will power to resist him. Clearly. Last night was evidence of what he could do to her. Her body was humming at his touch. She drifted away from him, putting her back to him.

"You're such a busy man, Will. You can't take the day off - I can't monopolize all of your time."

"Monopolize my time? Are you kidding? You've just had a terrifying experience. I'm not going to abandon you to face it alone."

"I won't be alone." She turned to face him. "I can call Malcolm or Phillip or even Max—" His eyes flared at that suggestion and she finished lamely, "Or maybe Sal? Could you let him take me around today? It would be better if he took me rather than you. I can't imagine what would happen if you took a whole day off work. Darcy Records would implode."

"Don't worry about it. Maggie is already on top of it. She is taking care of my schedule," he closed the distance between them, tapping her nose with his finger, "I'll take care of you."

She persisted. "It's not necessary for you to take care of me. You've done so much already. More than enough, in fact." She squirmed out of his embrace. "If you could just loan me some money, I can take a cab. I'll pay you back as soon as I get to my bank. You can go your way and I can go mine. No need for you to tag along."

"No need for me to tag along?" Darcy's face underwent a quick transformation ending in a seriously unfriendly scowl. "The truth is you'd rather I didn't come with you today, right?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to deny it, but found she couldn't say a word. After the intimacy they shared, she couldn't lie to him. Her reluctance to answer was an answer all in itself. She rubbed her arms. His voice was glacial. "Answer me. You owe me that much."

"I don't want you with me." She was incensed forced to admit the truth. "It would not be a good idea."

He seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure. He turned glanced toward his bedroom, then turned back to her. "Why?"

She struggled with an explanation. How did she explain that she felt like she was going to hyperventilate? She was disgusted with herself for sleeping with him. And, she was frightened of the way her body was reacting to him. Yearning for him. Aching to have him do it again.

"I see." It was clear he didn't. How could he when she didn't understand herself? Not completely. "What about last night?"

"What about it?" Why was he acting this way? Just yesterday morning, he'd woken up next to a different woman in his bed in Cabo. She was sure he'd not grilled that woman as he was doing her now. Plus, had he already forgotten about the tantalizing Yvette? The headache was becoming brutal. Last night only happened because of the fire. "Look, Will, we shouldn't mix business and pleasure. We work together. We have too much to lose -"

"You little hypocrite!" He spat. "You don't seem to have any problems mixing business and pleasure with Max. I've seen that with my own eyes. Why should it be different with us?"

How cheap he made her sound! It was shocking. Just because he jumped in and out of bed with women every day did not mean she did the same. She felt her own anger flare. "So since I'm sleeping with Max, I should be happy to sleep with you too? Is that what you're implying?"

"No, it is not." His crossed his arms. A muscle was twitching in his jaw. His eyes burned. "Since we are on the subject of Max, you need to know that it is over. I won't share you with another man, Elizabeth."

A bolt of incredulity went through her. He was so very much like Peter. "Why should I have to give up any of my friends because you say so? Not sharing your women with other men, is that one of the famous William Darcy rules? You can have as many women as you like as often as you like but they have to wait patiently. Maybe I should hear all the rules? Isn't this the time for them?" She said with energy. "Or do you usually tell the woman before you fuck them how you're going to fuck them over."

"I'm not talking about my rules, Elizabeth. You know that. And, I didn't fuck you last night." He shut his eyes. "I made love to you. With you."

She laughed. "Someone like you isn't capable of loving a woman!"

"Someone like me? You honestly prefer Max to me!" The anger made it impossible to correct him. "I only have one question for you. Where was Max last night?"

"I don't know." She answered primly, "He didn't answer when I called him."

"You called him. Before you called me?" Elizabeth feared she would turn to a pillar of salt at the look in Darcy's eyes. She nodded. "You called the fellas, Georgie, Max, then me. What was I, your last resort?"

He had been. It was clear he saw the answer on her face. This conversation had jumped off the tracks. "You regret last night, don't you?"

"Yes, I regret it! Women are just conquests, games to you. None of them mean anything to you. I don't want what you are offering, Will. You'd be the last man in the world that I would have sex with if I was in my right mind." She covered her mouth with her hand, but she'd seen his stricken look. Its brief appearance confused her even more.

"This is your opinion of me?"

"I didn't mean that the way it came out, Will. I honestly didn't. I'm just confused right now. The fire and everything last night just made us both act out of character-"

"Out of character?"

What was he, a parrot! She nodded. She wasn't blaming him. Sex was just like a handshake to him. He was trying to comfort her the only way he knew. He was a broken sort of man. "I don't think it is a good idea that we talk about last night anymore. I think its best that no one finds out about what happened between us. That we just put this behind us and forget it happened. We just go back to normal and -"

"You don't want your precious Max to find out. Right?" She would rather Max and the rest of _The Hole House_ never found out about their night together. "Don't worry, Elizabeth, I am discreet. I am not the sort to kiss and tell. Your secret is safe with me."

Shifting, Darcy pulled out his wallet and laid four crisp hundred dollar bills on the table as if he didn't trust himself to hand them to her. He hit a button on his phone. "Sal, Elizabeth will be down shortly. Please take her wherever she wants to go." Then to her, he said in a soft voice inconsistent with his apparent fury, "Take the money. Go find your little bass player. Get the fuck out of my house, I can't stand the sight of you."

Without another word to her, he stormed to his bedroom slamming the door to it in his wake.

Elizabeth took two steps after him, but stopped. He needed time to cool down. She knew from their past quarrels that Darcy was a forgiving man. In fact, many of the arguments they had simply went away overnight without either of them apologizing. By six-thirty the following morning, he would be on her cell phone, and they'd talk as if the battle had not taken place the previous day.

Spending the night with Yvette would take the sting out of his resentment. Sleeping with another woman and putting distance from last night would do the trick. He just needed some time to realize that she'd been right. A sexual relationship would only complicate an arrangement that had worked so well between them for months. He'd hurt her if they continued. She'd never given her body to a man without the confines of being in love. She wasn't built for casual sex. He was only acting this way because she had come to the conclusion before he had.

Even though she had convinced herself that leaving was the right thing to do, Elizabeth lost it in the elevator and had to stop the car's descent to recover. Darcy would certainly come to see it was more important for them to remain professional than to risk everything on an ill-fated fling. A few weeks of passionate sex wouldn't be enough for her. It would mess up everything for them. She'd fall deeply in love. And, he'd simply move on to his next meaningless conquest.

When Darcy called her in the morning, she would work hard to make sure that nothing seemed different between them. She had to. She couldn't lose what they had. Their partnership. She'd show him that she was a modern woman. A night in his bed wouldn't impact their friendship in any lasting way. She had needed comfort and he had provided it in the only way a man like William Darcy knew.

Sal looked worried when she exited the elevator. Without her asking, he informed her that Mr. Darcy had called down and given him the information for the DMV, and they were to go there first. Paul's sister, Tracy, was resourceful and had her ID ready upon arrival.

At her bank, the manager personally came forward to greet her upon her entrance. He fell over himself to tell her how sorry he had been about the fire, and if there was anything New York Central Trust could do for her, he would be willing to personally see to her future needs. After securing a new account, ordering checks and a credit card, she made a withdrawal for spending money. Evidentially, being friends with Darcy got the red carpet rolled out wherever one went.

A phone was secured as well as a new purse and a few outfits at the mall across from the bank. A full hour was spent in front of the inadequate selection of cards at the Hallmark Store. She agonized over finding the perfect one for him. None of them had the sentiment she was looking for. How did one say all that she wanted to say to him—thank you, you're an amazing man, and sorry I can't just be physical and professional at the same time? Finally she settled on a blank card of a man sitting in front of a piano, his eyes closed with his hands resting lightly on the keys. A piece of half-written sheet music was before him. Something about it seemed right, and Elizabeth thought he would like it. She jotted a quick simple thank you and slid the money she needed to return to him inside before she sealed it.

The next stop was _The Hole._ She thanked Sal sincerely for driving her when he helped her out of the backseat with her purchases in front of the large building.

The older man smiled at her, but quickly responded, "I'm just following Mr. Darcy's orders, Ms. Bennet. He'd skin my hide if anything were to happen to you."

She held the card out to Sal. "Can you give this to him for me?"

"Wouldn't you like to deliver it yourself? We should be returning to the penthouse soon." He consulted his watch. "I'm sure you can go up and see him in person."

"I'm not going back with you, Sal. I'm going to stay either at _The Hole_ with Malcolm and Phillip, or I'll find a hotel somewhere until I can get sorted. There is no need for you to wait for me."

The driver shook his head. "Mr. Darcy will not be happy about this."

"Didn't he tell you to take me wherever I wanted to go?"

"He did, but he never gave any instructions to leave you unattended." Sal, looking peculiarly distressed, glanced around the street. "Ms. Bennet, I know Mr. Darcy would not be happy to learn I left you here. Come back with me, so he can tell you where I should take you."

Oh, she had a clear idea about where Darcy would want to send her in his current mood. "He will understand when you tell him I demanded that you leave me here. _The Hole_ is my second home in New York. You know that." She kissed his cheek. "Thanks for today, Sal."

Malcolm ran out the door of _The Hole_ , boa flying behind him, ordering the bouncers to assist with her purchases and pulled her into a hug.

"Girl, we saw the fire on the news this morning. Luckily, Phillip got to the messages or we would've been distraught. You're really safe?"

"Yes, Will took great care of me," she admitted and then was barely able to breathe. Phillip joined them and they brought her inside. Before she could ask, they offered her the use of their den for as long as she needed.

Left alone, Elizabeth charged her phone and took out her new purchases. She went about finding room for her clothes in the cramped bureau and then sat down heavily on the couch that would serve as her bed for the foreseeable future. When she shut her eyes, the image of Darcy sprang to her mind, dancing barefoot in front of his stove. As long as she lived, she knew she'd never forget seeing him in that way.

Once her new phone was charged, she called her parents and explained about the fire and that she was perfectly well. They were worried, and her father repeated his plea for her to return home. She reminded them she would be home for Thanksgiving, but by the time she hung up, she was so full of homesickness that she dissolved into a long, well-deserved cry.

When she recovered, she called Georgiana. When she got the girl's voicemail, Elizabeth left her new number. She didn't think she was up to the uncomfortable questions her friend would have for her, and she sincerely hoped Darcy's explanation would suffice for both of them. Maybe his sister was so used to finding him with female company that an explanation from her would not be required at all. Happy thought indeed!

Elizabeth stared at her phone a long time. She punched in his number and as the phone rang, she tore at her thumb nail. She was relieved when he didn't answer.

"Hey, it's me. It's Lizzy." Of course, he'd know that. "I'm sure Sal's told you already, but I'm staying at _The Hole_ with Phil and Malcolm until I find another place."

She wanted to add something about how they had parted, but nothing satisfactory came to mind. Besides, mentioning it would delay the getting over it part. Her mind raced through several images from earlier that morning. The way he looked in the kitchen. His kindness to her. And then his anger.

"Will, I -" She paused. She what? She ended up saying the one thing that was not confusing. "I shouldn't have said what I said this morning. It was mean and unfair. Even though we quarreled, you mean a great deal to me. I wouldn't have everything I've ever wanted if it weren't for you."

14


	13. Chapter 9 Part 1

It was a struggle to get this done in time. Thanks to my editor and my Fibby. You guys helped me so much more than you ever know with your encouragement and suggestions. To the rest of the people following my tale, thank you for your support and kindness these last few weeks. It means the world to me. I really to feel blessed to be part of such a special group of people.

As for our dear couple, I only write happy ever afters. I have not decided if this will have four more chapters or 8 more. It depends on how much I want to stretch out the angst. I have another two chapters complete before I hit the point of my writer's block. I have been writing the last few days, but nothing all that exciting. I still haven't decided where to go after Chapter 11 - so many decisions :) I do hope you enjoy!

 **Girl Is On Fire** **Chapter 9 Part 1 -**

 _"Seven whole days and not a word from you._

 _Seven whole nights and I'm just about thru._

 _I can't take it, won't take it._

 _Can't take it no more. " Toni Braxton_

Elizabeth woke up the next morning after her fight with Darcy with eyes salty from crying. Raising a hand to her brow shielding her eyes, she sat up slowly. She felt as if she had been baked in an oven. Over-warmed. When she had gone to sleep the previous night, she had forgotten to pull the blinds on the only window in the small den. She blinked a few times at the bright sunlight streaming into the room. It shouldn't be here. The sun shouldn't even be up yet. But, it was. And, from its position, it had been for a while. She grabbed her cell phone in confusion. It was well after nine. There were no messages or missed calls.

Elizabeth moved into the kitchen. As she brewed her morning coffee, she checked the clock on the microwave in the kitchen and the one in the bathroom above the sink when she brushed her teeth. Darcy always called. Every morning. Promptly at six-thirty. No matter where he was in the world, no matter who he was with, and no matter how much they'd fought the previous day. No matter what. It had been that way since she'd signed his infernal contract. Not hearing his voice made her feel odd. It had become a part of her daily routine. It was hard to get started without it.

Certainly, he couldn't still be mad about yesterday morning?

As soon as Elizabeth had the thought, she dismissed it. This was William Darcy. The recording mogul, millionaire, a man use to dating movie stars and famous women. Like he would really be upset about anything to do with her. She was inconsequential to him. Besides, no previous argument had ever stopped his morning call. In was not in his nature to hold a grudge. He'd never stayed mad at her previously.

No, something else must have kept him from returning her call. Maybe Darcy didn't recognize her new number when she called him yesterday. She knew how busy he was, how many interruptions he endured, how many people called him on his private line on any given day. It was possible that he hadn't had time to check his voicemail. After all, he had Yvette lined up for his night's entertainment. Maybe his night had spilled over to the morning? Imagining him doing what he had to her with such enthusiasm to another woman made her uncomfortably queasy.

For the rest of the day, Elizabeth developed an unnatural sensitivity to the ring tone of her new phone. Just when she was convinced it wasn't working properly, Dr. Tanner's office and then her father got through to her. Besides those, though, her phone remained frustratingly quiet. Before the bar opened for the evening, she called him again.

"Hey, it's me." She paused feeling awkward talking to his voicemail. Usually, he picked up when she called. "Look, I'm helping out behind the bar tonight at _The Hole._ Why don't you stop by? I'll even buy you a drink." She playfully added, "I'll even splurge on one of those fruity ones with the umbrella to remind you of Cabo. Anyway, stop by, or call me." She paused, then added honestly, "It was strange not hearing from you today."

On the third day, she met with Dr. Tanner, who informed her she was halfway to her goal weight. She made it to the lobby before fishing out her phone. She excitedly told his voicemail. "Hey, stranger! You were the first person I thought to call. Let's celebrate! Maybe _Stan's_? Tonight? I'll even treat. Though, there will not be any desert! No, siree! Well, I could be talked into a small piece. . . ." She stopped as she exited to the street. She frowned. Had it really only been three days since she'd heard from him? It felt so much longer. "Even if you don't want to go to _Stan's_ , call me back, okay? I'm starting to worry about you."

On the fourth day, Elizabeth received a large package via courier as she was setting up the bar with Daisy. A large package from one William Darcy. Even though Malcolm was curious about its contents, she rushed upstairs to the apartment to open it in private. He'd never sent her a present before, and she looked at it with all the enthusiasm of Christmas morning. Thrilled, she grabbed some scissors from the kitchen and opened the plain, brown wrapper. Inside, she discovered were her light blue pajamas, freshly washed, and several items that she'd left behind from the purchases Georgiana made for her. She searched the contents looking for a note. There wasn't one. Confused, she called him again.

A fifth day turned into a sixth and then a week without a word from Darcy. Elizabeth had been slow but finally got his message loud and clear. She wouldn't call him again. The next move was his. If he wanted to talk to her, he would just have to call her. After all, it would occur to him eventually that they had recorded an album together and that he'd need her help promoting it, right?

However, Elizabeth's decision did nothing to stop the fact she missed Darcy. The sound of his voice, his opinions, his moodiness, even the irritating way he thought himself above other people. The arrogance and confidence was an integral part of him. Somehow, he had seeped into her life and infected her. He'd become the voice of reason in her mind.

After a week without hearing from him, she even missed their arguments.

The nights were the worst. Lying alone in the dark without the convenient distractions of the day, Elizabeth's mind replayed their night together - every kiss, each caress, all of the compliments in his low baritone. It was torment. When she was able to sleep, she had disturbingly realistic dreams of him. Sometimes they were at the studio. Sometimes they were at her old apartment. But, most of the dreams, were at his penthouse.

Elizabeth had to put him from her mind until he reached out to her.

That feat was easier said than done. Darcy seemed literally everywhere. Watching _American Idol_ with the fellas, the guest singer featured was Salvatore. He was fresh out of rehab and spoke candidly about his experience. His popularity with teenagers and young people had made his denouncement of drugs and alcohol more effective than any public service announcement. He raved about the support that was given to him by Darcy Records in general, William Darcy specifically. He credited the man for his salvation and putting him on the path of his sobriety.

At the grocery store to buy items for the bar with Daisy, Elizabeth found herself facing a picture of Darcy dressed impeccably in one of his fitted three-piece suits on the front page of the _Wall Street Journal_ in the checkout lane. An article titled "Will Darcy's Ship Comes In Again!" was about his investment in some fledgling shipping company, based out of Atlanta, which had made him a huge profit when the company went public recently. Elizabeth didn't understand much of the technical jargon used, but she read with interest what the CEO Fred Wentworth said about him.

 _"The best piece of luck I ever had was being roommates with Will Darcy in college. He gave me the two greatest gifts in my life: seed money to buy my first boat and a reintroduction to my wife, Anne. He has been, and always will be, a man I admire and respect. A truer friend would be hard to find."_

A week later, at the dentist's office, the woman who sat across from her was reading an old issue of _In Touch_. Prominently displayed on the cover was a picture of Darcy escorting Aubrey Richardson to her Italian premiere. Elizabeth buried her face in _Sports Illustrated_ , but the minute the woman was called, she swapped out magazines greedily reading the article.

The opening paragraphs were devoted to Darcy's confirmed bachelor status. Over the years, she read eagerly, many women had tried to tame the notorious bachelor but all had failed miserably. Along the margin of the page were a collection of headshots of several famous females who had attempted the feat. Looking at them, it was no wonder his ego was the size of Texas!

The writer of the article indicated sources inside Darcy's inner sanctum had confirmed that he and Aubrey were dating. This time it appeared serious. Elizabeth mulled over this information. Clearly, the starlet was the reason for his visit to Italy, but Darcy had never spoken of the women in her presence except for when he made his travel plans with Maggie. Elizabeth recalled Esme's comments from the night she sang _Collide_ for the first time. Was this beauty the woman who had been the source of Darcy's misery? The woman who had made it past all of his barriers? The timing definitely fit.

The last paragraphs speculated that Ms. Richardson was definitely the sort of woman who could threaten Darcy's resolve to remain single. Elizabeth could well believe it. The actress was stunning. An Academy Award nominee, she was talented and the embodiment of womanly perfection—full lips, slender waist, long bony legs, and artificial, gravity-defying breasts. Yeah, she was definitely his type, all right. The women probably hadn't eaten a carb in years!

Quite unexpectedly, all the insecurities Elizabeth ever felt since Darcy had offered his initial assessment of her surfaced. Anger coiled within her stomach. With women like this chasing him, there was no way their argument could have caused his silence. No reason for him to punish her so. When she was called in for her cleaning, she dropped the magazine in the trash receptacle where it belonged.

*(*(*

 _"Will, I - I shouldn't have said what I said this morning. It was mean and unfair. Even though we quarreled, you mean a great deal to me. I wouldn't have everything I've ever wanted if it weren't for you."_ Elizabeth didn't have to be so brutally honest. He had no illusions of his importance in her life. Their argument in his penthouse had provided him a clarity he had been lacking. Her empty platitudes hurt. He didn't want her gratitude. Nor did he want a half-assed apology that sounded very much like an after-thought. Had he really mattered to her at all?

His finger hovered over the delete button, but he could not bring himself to press it, to shut the door on her voice, to hear her say his name. Instead, he pressed the prompt for the next message. _"Hey, it's me. Look, I'm helping out behind the bar tonight at The Hole. Why don't you stop by? I'll even buy you a drink. I'll even splurge on one of those fruity ones with the umbrella to remind you of Cabo. Anyway, stop by, or call me. It was strange not hearing from you today."_ Cabo? He had wanted to take her there with him. Elizabeth on the beach, frolicking in the surf, fucking in his bed.

Darcy didn't need her to buy his drinks. He poured himself another. He knew he was drunk. For days, he had been. Another drink. Another message. _"Hey, stranger! You were the first person I thought to call. Let's celebrate! Maybe Stan's? Tonight?"_ He didn't think he'd be able to go back there. How did she not realize how special she was to him? The increasing need to be with her. His jealousy. The desire to do anything to make her happy. " _I'll even treat. Though, there will not be any desert! No, siree! Well, I could be talked into a small piece. . ."_ It reminded him of their dinner. Her flirtation.

" _Do you like it?" Her smoky eyes were wide, her lips curled into the most seductive smile. Her voice husky with desire for him. "Do you want another bite, Will?"_

Darcy threw back a shot and grimaced. No matter how much he drank the memory of her would not drown. He wanted that night at _Stan's_ back. Or, the following morning at her apartment. It had been in that stairwell at that dump, he had realized startling that he wanted to be with her. Not like he normally wanted a woman. It was where he had told her how he felt for the first time.

The message continued. " _C_ _all me back, okay? I'm starting to worry about you."_ She was worried about him? Unlikely. She was probably worried he wasn't going to release her album. That he would let his personal feelings dictate his business decisions. He ran a hand through his hair. His first reaction was to destroy the cursed CD. Ruin her happiness as she had his. Of course, he couldn't do it. He couldn't trash the only link they had together. Their music. Forever twined.

How could he call her? How could he pretend that she had not shattered him? He couldn't talk to her until he was able to hide this - overwhelming emptiness - and could match the casual air she projected. And, that was something he could not do. Yet.

Another message. _"Hey, I got my clothes."_ Georgie had sent them to her. He laughed bitterly at the memory of his sister's reaction to his news of his fight with Elizabeth. His timid, sweet sister had become someone else in those moments. A defensive lioness and he her cub. " _I know you're really busy, but I didn't hear back from you about Stan's. Maybe we could do lunch at the bistro? We haven't been in what feels like ages. What do you think?"_

The bistro? Was she deliberately trying to drive him insane bringing up every spot they had gone together? Cruelly remind him, as if he could ever forget, all their special places. Places where he had over time, unconsciously, surrendered pieces of his heart to her. How had he not known what was happening to him? How she had become so important? So vital?

Darcy had written of heartbreak, but he never fully comprehended the concept. His fingers rested on the keys of the instrument before him. They moved aimlessly from memory before he realized he was playing the introduction of _Start of Something Good_ and stopped. Swaying, he stood up from the piano bench. There was no reason to stay here. The music had silenced, as suddenly as it had started, the day he threw Elizabeth out of his penthouse. He shuffled into the great room pausing, seeing her specter everywhere. Cold, shaken on his couch when she arrived. Naked and pliant in his bed. Angry and ashamed when she left.

 _"Maybe I should hear all the rules? Isn't this the time for them?" Disgust had contorted her beautiful face. She had been disgusted by their night together. "Or do you usually tell the woman before you fuck them how you're going to fuck them over." He had tried to explain. They hadn't fucked. He had made love to her. She'd laughed in his face. "Someone like you isn't capable of loving a woman!"_

Elizabeth was wrong. He was capable of loving a woman. One woman. Her. Their night together had been magical. For him. He'd always enjoyed having sex. Enjoyed bringing a woman to completion. Everyone knew cumming felt fantastic.

But loving her was so very different from sex with others.

What had happened in his bed between the two of them was not only a physical exercise. He'd felt connected to Elizabeth. He had made love to her. For the first time in his life, he understood what that sentiment was like. He'd woken that morning a changed man. Unrecognizable from what he had been before their first kiss. He accepted his feelings were not a passing fancy. Gradually, so gradually he had not noticed, he had fallen deeply in love with the siren.

Memories from that morning assaulted him. Her curled around him, her body warm and soft, and he could do nothing for a long time but watch her sleep. The wonder of her. He knew he'd never be the same. He had been incandescently happy for those few short hours. Feelings of euphoria of spending such a perfect night with her.

To know, she had such a different opinion of their night rattled him. A different opinion of not just their night, he corrected himself, but their entire relationship. While he had been falling in love, she had been what? Putting up with him? Humoring him? Suffering him?

Their argument was fuzzy in places, but he remembered her answer when he asked if she regretted their night together. It was seared into his heart. _"Yes, I regret it! Women are just conquests, games to you. None of them mean anything to you. I don't want what you are offering, Will. You'd be the last man in the world that I would have sex with if I was in my right mind."_

Elizabeth thought women didn't mean anything to him. By extension, she didn't mean anything. How could she believe that? He pulled at his curls. Maybe it was a blessing that she didn't know how much she meant to him. What did it matter? She didn't want him. She had been ashamed of their night together. She had wanted it forgotten, kept a secret.

He threw his glass against the wall watching it splinter like the organ in his chest. Immediately, he regretted doing it. He could hear Georgie approaching. He wiped at his tears, trying to conceal them, but more took their place. The sympathy in his sister's eyes was devastating all its own. He screwed his own shut so he wouldn't have to see it, but he felt her arms around him as she steered him toward a sofa. Sitting side by side, for the first time in William Darcy's life, he allowed his sister to comfort him as he sobbed uncontrollably in her arms.

*)*)*)*

By the end of two weeks, Elizabeth felt she was losing her mind. The apartment was the gathering point for so many. There was nowhere to escape from either Malcolm, Phillip, workers at the bar, members of the band, or the friends of her popular hosts who just dropped by. There was no place to just think. The walls felt like they were growing smaller with each passing day. It was not the fellas. She adored them. She appreciated the fact they had taken her in, but she knew it was time for her to find her own place.

In receipt of the settlement from her renter's insurance, Elizabeth began her search in earnest. It turned out to be much harder than she anticipated. While she had the money for a deposit and the first six months' rent, the apartment buildings she now considered suitable—ones with working smoke alarms, adequate security—wouldn't rent to someone who didn't have a dependable source of income. Regardless of the fact she was under contract with Darcy Records, she was unfortunately considered too much of a credit risk.

Depressed by the experience and under the influence of several strong Cosmos, Elizabeth broke down and told Darcy's voicemail all about it. She spoke to his machine as if she were speaking to him. She wanted to be funny, tried to be amusing, but upon reflection the following morning, strongly suspected she ended up being nothing short of pathetic. By the time Phillip had coaxed her from the den with his homemade hangover cure the following afternoon, she was surprised to find that she had several missed calls on her cell phone.

"Your dad again?" Malcolm asked, as she took off the last of the messages.

"No." Though it was a good guess. Since the fire, her dad called almost every day, trying to convince her to come home. "It was actually one of the property managers. They're offering me an apartment."

"That's great, Lizzy. Which one?"

"All of them." She held up the notepad where she'd made a list of her calls. "Every single last one of them."

While Elizabeth had slept, she had miraculously transformed into the ideal tenant. Each of the property managers who had rejected her had left the same sort of message for her within a few minutes of one another. Nothing would make them happier than to rent to her. She could, whenever convenient, come by and pick up keys. To any unit. Any time. It would be their pleasure to lease to her. Could she please give them a call back?

Malcolm took the notepad, whistled and handed it back to her. "Well, your Mr. Darcy certainly had a busy morning."

"He's not my Mr. Darcy." How pathetic was she that she couldn't even obtain a lease by herself?

"If you say so." Malcolm brushed his long hair in the mirror in the hallway. He insisted the light was better there than anywhere else in the apartment. Looking over his shoulder at her, he added seriously, "You know, maybe I was too quick to dislike him. Really, he can't be as bad as I thought when there doesn't seem to be anything he won't do for you. All you have to do is ask."

"I didn't ask him for his help. " If they were on friendly terms, Elizabeth would have been happy for his intervention. But, now? It was only proof he had gotten all her calls, had listened to them, but simply wasn't returning them. He obviously had interfered on her behalf. She just didn't understand. Why would he have gone to such trouble if he was still mad at her? It didn't make sense. "I don't even know how he knew who to contact since I didn't tell him which apartments I went to look at."

"Who cares how he found out? Girl, you won the lottery, snagging a man like him! Don't you know that? I say, take advantage of his help and then run over to his office in something that flaunts your ta-tas. Then, repay the favor and let him take advantage of you in person." Malcolm, of course, demonstrated what he meant for her. "Maybe he'll arrange to furnish your new place too if you play your cards right! At least, get you a decent bed. I'm sure he wouldn't mind breaking a new one in. It had to have been difficult on that futon."

She was appalled. "It's not like that between Will and me!"

"Uh huh." Malcolm winked at her, unaware of her thoughts. "One day, you're going to spill all about you and him. A man like him surely does not disappoint."

"There's nothing to spill because nothing happened between us," Elizabeth lied quickly. A little too quickly from the knowing expression on her friend's face.

Excusing herself, she returned to her makeshift bedroom, shut the door quietly behind her, and drew the curtains across the room's one small window. When the fellas assumed she was feeling the after effects of the alcohol she consumed the night before, she did not correct them. Nothing seemed to help her current mood more than remaining in the dark space for the rest of the day.

Elizabeth kept looking at the display on her cell phone, willing Darcy to call her. What she wouldn't give to hear him telling her about some boring meeting, or how his day was going, or just simply yell at her. She just wanted to hear his voice. Have him back in her life. Rolling on her side, she knew one thing for certain. The bubble of excitement of finding her own place had popped.

That evening after the bar closed, Malcolm lured her from her bed with her favorite treat, ice cream sandwiches from the nearby _Melt Bakery_. She made a late dinner of not one, but two, of the delectable treats. When she reached for a third, she stopped. Knowing it was unhealthy to deal with her grief, and it felt so much like grief, she called Sierra.

It wasn't so bad getting back to her normal exercise routine. Sierra only mentioned Darcy's absence once, and then never brought it up again. It had nothing to do with the fact that the one time she'd asked after him, Elizabeth had burst out crying. Right in the middle of the gym. Right in the middle of her workout. Poor Sierra had to guide her to the office, kicked out a perturbed Pike, locked them both in, and waited until Elizabeth regained her composure.

When she was done, Sierra didn't mince her words. "He may pay my salary, but Will Darcy is an absolute asshole!"

"No, he's not. Well, not always. Just sometimes." Elizabeth laughed through her tears then shook her head. "Sometimes, he's the best friend I've ever had. I think he understands me more than I understand myself."

"Then, what's the problem?" Sierra frowned, sincerely worried for her. "Whenever you're here together, he can't take his eyes off of you. It's rather noticeable. I always thought you were crazy for not giving him more encouragement when clearly he—"

Raising a hand, Elizabeth was pretty sure that she'd lost his regard, if she ever truly had it. "Can we please talk about something else?"

Sierra looked like she'd rather pursue the subject, but nodded. To distract her, her trainer suggested that they discuss changes she wanted to make to the current exercise regimen. At her suggestion, they supplemented her workouts with some of the classes offered at the gym. Elizabeth attended a cycling and a Pilates class in addition to her other five hour sessions before that second week was over. Her endurance was improving.

It was at the gym running on the treadmill when she heard _Stronger_ on the radio for the first time. She was so used to it that it took a moment to realize that the song wasn't coming from within her memory, but actually from the speakers mounted in the ceiling. Shocked, she tripped and was nearly thrown backwards.

"Lizzy, are you okay," Sierra said, helping her regain her footing.

"That's me! On the radio. That's me singing!"

Sierra cocked her ear to the speaker and listened to the words, and then she had Pike turned up the volume. Elizabeth stood in a room full of New Yorkers exercising but felt nothing but painful isolation. The song could only remind her of Darcy. The look he gave her after it was recorded.

Later, the song came on again on her way home on the subway— _by caller's request_ —while she was surrounded entirely by strangers. By the time Elizabeth reached _The Hole_ , she'd heard it a total of three times on two different stations. She called him, then Georgiana, then Richard, reaching voice mail on each but hung up without leaving a message. It may have been for the best since she couldn't put into words all that she wanted to say to them.

The following morning, her phone rang blissfully at six-thirty.

The sound was so welcomed and her relief so profound that Elizabeth nearly broke her neck, falling off the couch and banging her shin against the coffee table, trying to reach it before it rolled to voicemail. She answered breathlessly, "Will?"

"Oh. My. God!" her younger sisters shrieked loudly and collectively into the phone. They told her excitedly that all the radio stations in Cincinnati were playing her song and that the local callers had just the night before voted it a _hot track_.

The disappointment at not hearing Darcy's voice on the line made it hard to stomach the incessant screaming and talking of all three of her sisters at once. After their call, she'd crawled back into her bed where she cried herself back to sleep.

 _How much longer was he going to punish her? Going to ignore her?_

Later that same week as she was helping with opening with the bar, Elizabeth was informed by Doty that Ryan Seacrest had announced _Stronger_ was number 20 on America's Top 40. She hugged her tightly, swinging her around. Elizabeth faked enthusiasm. After all, they had all worked hard on the album. Their success was intertwined with hers.

Reading from his cell phone, Ricky added that her single was the highest debut by a new artist in the last four years. I-tunes was reporting record sales. For the rest of that day and night, she accepted the congratulations of the regulars at _The Hole_ as she helped Phillip behind the bar _._ Each time someone mentioned the song it was like picking at a scab. It had been their song. They'd done it together. Several patrons begged her to take to the stage and sing the popular song live for them, but she declined since it would have been a violation of her contract with Darcy Records.

That's not to say that Elizabeth wasn't singing. She was. Before the bar opened each day, she practiced with _The Hole House_ making sure she they stayed sharp, kept their timing tight. She had become the task master - hearing his voice in her head, forever correcting the small errors they made. Forcing them to become better. Preparing for the eventual call when Darcy decided it was time for her to promote their album.

It was in one of these sessions that Ricky suggested they create a dance version of _Stronger_. When paired with a fast pace drumbeat and his sound techno effects, the song went from being a beautiful, inspirational song for women everywhere, to a club anthem. While Elizabeth liked both versions, she favored the original. Their version. Even though she gave Max a wide birth, she enjoyed collaborating with the others.

According to the disc jockey on _Fresh 102.7_ , plans were going forward with the release of her CD, slated for the first week of December. She was glad to be informed. Curiously, no one from Darcy Records had been in contact with her. Shouldn't she be doing something for the release? Darcy should be breathing down her neck, demanding she promote the album, working her to bone-weary exhaustion. No matter what he felt personally for her, he was a business man. He liked to make money as much as he liked to bed women!

Feeling despondent and needing a cheering up, Elizabeth called Charlotte.

"Maybe he's working with another artist?" Her best friend suggested to explain Darcy's unnatural silence. That was a possibility. He probably went from one artist to another like his romances. "When Darcy was producing you, he was always with you, right? He could just be too busy to call you back because he's trying to get the best out of another performer. Think about it. When he thought you needed his help getting an apartment, he gave it to you, without asking, didn't he?"

"That's true." She chewed at her finger nail, then stopped, aware that several were down to the quick. Her manicure was ruined.

"Lizzy, from what you've told me about Darcy, it doesn't make sense he'd give you such a cold shoulder without a real reason." Elizabeth hadn't shared the time at his penthouse with Charlotte. She hadn't talked to anyone about it. She held back a sob. It was times like this that she missed Jane desperately. She'd know what to do. The line was quiet for a long time. "You asked him to give you some time after the CD was finished. Maybe, everyone is giving it to you? Perhaps, you should just tell him you are ready to get back to work."

Elizabeth realized that she'd never indicated that she was ready to get back to work. Their last conversations, prior to the incidents surrounding her fire, were all about her getting time to herself. Could that be it? It felt strangely like she was clutching at straws.

The next day Elizabeth headed to Darcy Records. She decided it was up to her to make this effort. After her behavior at his penthouse, she deserved to be the one who extended the olive branch to him. Swallowed her pride. Be the professional he had always demanded from her.

Instead of being waved passed as usual, the building security guard, a bulky man with a sweet voice named Jacob, seemed sorry when he stopped her. After finding out Elizabeth didn't have an appointment, he informed her that Mr. Darcy didn't accept visitors without one. He had to ring up to her employer's office to see if anyone was available to see her. The line was answered somewhere, he was transferred, a short conversation took place with someone, Jacob apologized more than once before being placed on hold, and the two stared uncomfortably at one another.

Someone else came to the line, and Jacob was given further instructions. Sighing, he hung up the line, looked away from her, and dialed another number. The routine repeated, a conversation centered around a Ms. Stein and the fact she was out of the office. He was routed to another person, and then he handed the phone to her.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that Mr. Darcy isn't available to see visitors today. If you want to leave your name and number with me, I'll make sure he gets your message." Maggie sounded every bit the part of a disinterested secretary of a man whose time was in high demand. She'd never been put through to his secretary before. "Hello? Are you still there?"

"It's not necessary, Maggie. He has my number."

"Elizabeth?" So much pity was relayed in that one word.

She twisted the telephone cord around her finger, aware Jacob was watching her sympathetically. She willed herself not to cry. Not here. Not in the lobby of his building where everyone could see.

His people had to do this every day. Dealt with those he didn't wish to see. She remembered vividly how Darcy dispatched his mail at his receptionist desk each morning. This is what it felt like to be in the ' _not interested'_ pile. To be discarded. Just how many broken hearted women had waited in the lobby while she'd been blissfully unaware at his side all those days? All those weeks? Months?

"Let me try his line again. He can't know you're here."

They both knew that wasn't true. There was little point in pretending it was. "Maggie, he knows."

"Let me tell him you want to see him! It's been so long since you were last here and," her voice dropped to a whisper, "he's not been himself these last few weeks. Let me tell him you've come to talk to him. Let me —"

"No!" Elizabeth already appeared pathetic. She wouldn't have his secretary beg him on her behalf. She gave the message she had come to relay. "Can you tell him I heard my song on the radio? Let him know I'm ready to do whatever he wants to promote the album. He has my number, if and when, he wants to use it. Goodbye, Maggie." Without waiting for a response, she handed the phone back to Jacob, gave him a warm smile, and left the building with her head held high.

Her bravado did not last very long.

On the subway, Elizabeth found a seat in the rear of the train and doubled over at her waist. She felt sick. Hurt all over. From the inside, out. Darcy didn't want to see her. He didn't want to talk to her. He no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. His parting words rose from her subconscious.

" _I can't stand the sight of you_."

He had meant it!

As the train traveled through the tunnel beneath the city she loved, Elizabeth finally admitted that she'd never taken his feelings into consideration at all. While she knew sex meant little more than a handshake to him, she should have explained herself better that morning. If he was one thing, William Darcy was a proud man. A caring man. A sensual man. For one night, no man could have been more perfect. He'd been charmingly concerned before his detour into such unexpected passion. Their night together. She'd never forget it. Never. She touched a finger to her lips remembering the feel of his against her own, then she chastised herself for such indulgence.

The swirling emotions inside her solidified into anger. Anger not at him, but herself. Deep down she had known he was avoiding her. Thinking back on that morning, how had she expected him to react? Her treatment of him had been infamous. He was a man, after all, and she'd rejected him. Quite thoroughly. Insulted him. While her reaction was not so much about him as it was an acknowledgement of her own limitations, he did not know that. He didn't know that she had to push him away - had to escape him - before she did the one thing she could not afford to do. She could not fall in love with him. A man like him was not meant for a woman like her. She had missed her opportunity to explain how she felt.

But, pulling a pen from her purse, Elizabeth could explain herself now. Even if he wouldn't listen to her, she could write about it. She found a scrap piece of paper and began to work through her emotions. The confusion. The passion. The fear. The mistake of that morning. What had worked so well for her in the past, would work again. It simply had to. She had lost her songbooks to the fire, but that didn't mean she couldn't write more. It didn't mean she couldn't write different songs. She could still pour herself into music.


	14. Chapter 9 Part 2

It really is quite funny how many of you have hit upon upcoming plot points and some of you are way off base :) Darcy makes his reappearance in Chapter 10.

Thanks to my amazing Fibby and my editor for their contributions and their continued support.

To the rest of you, you make this fun!

 **Chapter 9 - Part 2**

 _Keep smiling, keep shining_ _  
_ _Knowing you can always count on me, for sure_ _  
_ _That's what friends are for_ _  
_ _For good times and bad times_ _  
_ _I'll be on your side forever more_ _  
_ _That's what friends are for_

 _Dionne Warwick, That's What Friends Are For_

When Elizabeth returned to _The Hole,_ she opened the door to the bar and found a pile of mail waiting. She wasn't trying to be nosy, but it was impossible not to see that several envelopes were stamped past due in ugly red letters. Worried, she went to the small office to the right of the entrance doors and found Phillip sitting at his desk. He was frowning darkly at what looked like a balance sheet. He accepted the mail without comment, flipping through the stack with a heavy sigh. He was never a man to show much emotion.

Elizabeth never before considered the dollars and cents of running a small business. How difficult it must be to depend on the whim of consumers. And right until this minute, she had no idea that _The Hole_ was struggling. She'd been so caught up with her own private misery she'd not noticed the misfortunes of those around her. On top of her other mounting sins, she had also been a bad friend. It had been a morning of painful revelations about her character.

"Are things really so bad?" Elizabeth asked.

"They aren't great," Phillip responded, absently straightening his bow tie. "Attendance has been down for the last couple of months, so profits are down. We're just a little behind with a few things. It'll get better."

"I still have my advance and the money from the fire. I'd be happy to loan you some money."

"While I appreciate the offer, we'll get through this rough patch." He closed his laptop, smiling faintly. "I just have to keep Malcolm from going shopping."

"Don't think of it as a loan, then. Let me give it to you for letting me stay here with you." She insisted. "I'd have had to pay if I stayed at a hotel."

"Absolutely not." He picked up the bills, slid them into a drawer before firmly shutting it as if that would make them go away. His chin rose proudly. "We don't make our friends pay when they visit us."

She had not meant to insult. "Phillip, I just want to help."

"You've been helping us. You've been cleaning our apartment, working at the bar, and closing up at night. That's more than enough for a lumpy couch and stomaching Malcolm's cooking."

Elizabeth glanced about the small office and noticed the couch was made up with pillows and sheets. Were things so bad between her favorite couple that they were no longer sleeping together? At her raised eyebrow, Phillip followed her gaze and laughed, "No, that's not for me. It's for Max. His landlord evicted him yesterday. He's going to be crashing here for the next few weeks until he can get together enough scratch to find another place."

*)*)*

Unable to sleep after the bar closed that night, Elizabeth searched her purse for the piece she'd started in the subway and went about weaving it into a song. It took all night, but when the sun rose the following morning she stared at the lyrics of _Wrecked_. It had been a long and painful labor. Discarded balls of paper surrounded her, but in the end, it was the most honest song she'd ever written.

Intense was the need to pair the edgy lyrics with the confounding melody she heard in the deep recesses of her mind. Frustrated her poor skills were not sufficient to achieve the sound she wanted, she banged away mercilessly on the house piano during most of the next two days while the bar was closed. It was a riddle she was desperate to solve on her own. The need to have the song perfect drove her, made her fixate every free minute on the musicality of the piece. A perfect distraction.

"I could help you with that if you want, Lizzy." Elizabeth looked up at the sound of Max's voice. It still startled her whenever he spoke to her. He acted as if that night at her apartment hadn't happened at all. That, in itself, creeped her out. A normal man would have kept his distance after she drew a knife on him, right?

"Thanks, but I think I have it covered." She turned back to the piano, trying to find the sound to match the noise in her head. It seemed so far away when she couldn't concentrate.

"It doesn't sound like you have it covered. It sounds like you are trying to murder stray dogs." He laughed, taking the spot next to her on the bench. She fought the urge to stand. "Come on. Let's collaborate. It will be like the old days when we did _Collide_ or _Supermassive._ "

"I would rather work on this one alone if you don't mind."

He clearly minded. "I'm trying to be nice here." His grin stretched his lips thin. He seemed a little angry. "Why can't you see that?"

"I don't want you to be nice to me, Max." She rose, picking up her music, trying to conceal her annoyance. It would do no good for anyone to draw attention to their disagreement. Even if he wasn't going on tour, he was a decent bassist and the fellas would need him at _The Hole._

"Look, Lizzy, that night, at your place - " He grabbed her arm quickly before she could make good on her escape, "you completely over-reacted to the situation."

"I didn't over-react to anything." She jerked her arm free of him. "I think the less time we spend together the better."

"Of course, if that is what you want. But I wish you'd change your mind. I'd like us to be friends again." He searched her face with imploring eyes. "I'd never do anything to hurt you. Never. You have to believe me."

"Do I?" She asked quietly. "Because you frightened me with all the talk about betraying me at my apartment. Isn't betraying me, hurting me, Max?"

"You're right. It is. Shit! I didn't know you, Lizzy. You have to understand. You and I - it was never suppose to be like this. I never thought I'd feel like this about you."

She was sick of feeling strange whenever he was nearby. "You said you betrayed me that night. What did that mean?"

He shut his eyes tightly, then slammed the cover over the keys making a loud banging sound. "I wish I'd never come to New York. I wish I'd never met you. Meeting you has completely ruined my life."

She was tired of his avoidance to answer the real question. There was no point in continuing a conversation that would only frustrate and scare her. "Well, if you aren't going to give me a straight answer, I don't have any more time to spend on you."

Elizabeth went upstairs to the apartment and locked the door behind her. Walking straight to the den, she found her cell phone and made arrangements to look at several of the apartments that she previously viewed. She'd been so depressed by Darcy's interference with the property managers that she hadn't bothered to follow up with any of them.

Remaining under the same roof as Max didn't appeal in the slightest. There was no way around it. She was going to have to find a place all her own. And, soon.

*(*(*

Over breakfast the following morning, she broached the subject of singing at _The Hole_ with Phillip. Since he wouldn't take her money, she figured she could use her five minutes of fame to help her friends. He adamantly told her no. However, by lunch a few days later, he relented.

"If you still want to perform, Felicia just got offered a part in an off Broadway production. I would be grateful if you took her spot since we are so short handed."

Of course, Elizabeth was only happy to help. Malcolm told a few of the regulars that she was going to perform and they spread the word to others. By the time she took the stage, they'd had to turn people away at the door. A first at _The Hole_.

Elizabeth felt herself relax in front of the crowd. Opening her set with her older material, she'd deliberately selected songs that were fan favorites among their loyal clientele. She did not want to sing any of the songs from the album she recorded with Darcy Records. It eased her conscious somewhat. For the last song, though, she surprised the expectant crowd with _The Hole_ _House's_ up tempo dance version of _Stronger_. Ricky's amazing sound effects made it perfect for the bar scene. The crowd went wild over it.

For her encore, Elizabeth took the unfamiliar seat at the piano. She stared at the keys a long time. Now that she had the opportunity, she was not sure she was ready share her creation with others. The audience was getting antsy at her hesitation. She could hear their growing whispers. Movements.

From behind the bar, Phillip looked at her with worry. She was suddenly scared to sing it. She shut her eyes and Darcy's face appeared before her. Her fingers moved. The beginning chords sounded ugly, jarring. They made her wince. It was an uncomfortable yet distinctive sound. Still not exactly how she had heard it in her head but so very close. Darcy, she knew, would have been able to perfect it. That thought pushed her forward. Made her unburdened herself. She sang softly of all of the wrong turns since they had met - her misgivings, her mistakes, her fear. All of which had combined to wreck a relationships that had been so vitally important to her.

When she finished, Elizabeth realized she was crying.

As the final note faded, thunderous silence greeted her. It was eerie to look out before her in the dark and hear nothing. To feel absolutely alone. When so many were present. The only sound was her own heavy breathing.

She didn't care if the audience liked her song. She didn't give a fig if she had disappointed them departing from her normal catchy songs and self-depreciating humor. Losing someone important to you was not a funny subject. It hadn't been for them. It had been for her. Performing it had been her own form of therapy.

Elizabeth stood, wobbled, spent by the performance. The weight of carrying the illusion that everything was fine almost buckled her knees. Putting one foot in front of the other, she moved across the stage. Applause began to trickle. Spread across the audience. Grow louder. Until by the time she started down the stairs, their response was shaking the stage. She ignored the deafening pleas for another song, going straight to her dressing room where she slid to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. _Wrecked_ had brought all her pain to the surface. It was impossible to ignore it. She was suffering the loss of William Darcy. Her best friend.

Malcolm opened the door without knocking and joined her on the floor. For a long time, they sat shoulder to shoulder before he finally said, "Do you know when I knew you were going to be a star, Lizzy?"

She shook her head, curious.

"The very first time I heard you sing. There you were up on the stage in that tragic Ohio State sweatshirt you always wore." Elizabeth laughed at the memory. "You belted out _It's Raining Men_ a cappella _._ I knew it before you hit the chorus." He kissed her temple. "Your voice was like a shockwave. It reached right down inside of me and plucked at something. You were special. You were going to be somebody."

Her friend rocked her gently, smoothing her hair. "Remember, you are a survivor, sweetie. You survived your sister's death, and you've survived New York. And you'll survive this, too. Once you are on tour, you'll be away from all the memories. Distance will make it easier. You might even forget you ever fell in love with Mr. Stick Up His Ass Darcy."

Elizabeth lifted her head to deny it, but her voice failed her. _In love?_ The sympathetic look on Malcolm's face made her realized that the only person she had been successful at fooling about her feelings was herself. She didn't know when it had happened, but she had done the unthinkable.

The one thing she was determined never to do.

Against her reason and resolve, she had fallen in love with William Darcy.

*)*)*

The next morning, after another long night counting the tiles in the den's small ceiling, Elizabeth was greeted by another impossibly bright and cheerful November day. As was becoming their habit, she met her roommates around the small breakfast table, eating a bowl of oatmeal and reading the morning paper Phillip insisted they get every day. With a dour expression, he handed it to her.

Elizabeth discovered Darcy wasn't the only one who could be newsworthy.

A photo from the previous night's performance was prominent on the front page of the entertainment section—not the small thumbnail picture one would expect from a small Indie bar like _The Hole_ , but a full-page shot of her. It had been taken during _Stronger_. One hand holding tightly to the microphone the other pointing at the sky, she was in mid-leap, pony tail flying, looking to all the world carefree and confident. The caption above the photo announced, " _Lizzy Bennet Wrecks The Hole_."

Malcolm made a crude comment, before he snatched the paper from her stunned fingers to read aloud the review.

" _Unless you've been living under a rock for the last few weeks, you've heard, hummed, and sung along with the irresistible song, Stronger on the radio. Well, folks, I'm here to tell you there's something infinitely better than the radio version—seeing Lizzy Bennet perform it live! You really can believe she will move mountains, or rather, put anyone in her way under one. She's a force –you are definitely in her house, at her mercy._

 _And just when you think she cannot possibly get better, she switches gears with Wrecked. One cannot help but be moved by its heartbreaking honesty. The brutality of her vulnerability when trying to be understood by another and failing miserably. It is a powerful, bitter opus about the painful surrender to love. And it is hauntingly heartbreaking._

 _If the rest of the songs on the highly anticipated album are as satisfying as these two, Lizzy Bennet is going to be a strong contender for New Artist of the Year at this year's Grammys. I can't imagine why Darcy Records is teasing the public by not releasing Wrecked for air play, or for that matter why they aren't marketing their most exciting star in years to larger venues than basically 'a hole in the wall.'_

 _The label has been strangely quiet since Stronger hit the airwaves. When contacted by this publication, they said tour dates will be announced soon. Take my advice. Get in line quickly. I imagine they will sell out in record breaking time. Personally, I've never had a_ _ **Stronger**_ _urge to be_ __ _ **Wrecked**_ _in my life!"_

Elizabeth lowered her head into her hands. This was bad. Very bad. There was no way for Darcy to ignore this. She could be sued, or _The Hole_ could be sued. Even though Phillip told her it was going to be alright and Malcolm seemed to be jazzed at the publicity, she was anxious. No matter what she did she just seemed to keep making one horrible decision after the other.

After she cleaned up from their breakfast, Elizabeth checked her cell. She was not surprised to find that there was a message waiting from Darcy Records. Not from Darcy, but from the mysterious Ms. Stein. The woman sounded friendly in the message as she indicated it was time they got to work on promoting her CD. She asked Elizabeth to call her back at a convenient time, so they could set up a meeting to discuss several exciting offers they'd received.

Before returning her call, Elizabeth dragged Malcolm out with her to shop for an outfit that would make her feel confident on the off chance Darcy made an appearance at the meeting. She called Roseanne at _Volumptuous._ After agonizing over her choices, she selected a daring red bra and panty set to match the color of the blouse she purchased that accentuated her natural curves and a black mini-skirt which emphasized her new slender waist. She paired the outfit, at Malcolm's insistence, with six inch heeled, thigh-high black boots. When they returned to the apartment, she returned Ms. Stein's call, and they setup a meeting for the very next morning.

Even though it was a shot in the dark, she also called _Fredrick's_ to see if something could be done about her hair. Feeling a little guilty, she dropped the Darcy name and was surprised at how quickly they informed her that they had a cancellation for that afternoon. If she would like to come in, Fredrick himself would see her. The owner, who had given her a trim and rinse at her last appointment under Georgie's guidance, was happy to see her. While they chatted and caught-up, he added a few highlights to her hair that made her appear sun-kissed and younger.

Malcolm loaned her a black leather coat that, if she were wearing flats, would have dragged on the ground. Looking at her reflection, she felt powerful. Her friend was not done as he insisted in helping her with her makeup. When he pronounced her done, she barely recognized herself in the mirror. She looked every inch a star!

To add to Elizabeth's confidence, in the cab ride over to the meeting, _Stronger_ came on the radio. The driver turned it up, informing her it was his new favorite song as he lightly beat out the melody on his steering wheel. He couldn't wait until Lizzy Bennet went on tour. He was going to be first in line for tickets for himself and his daughter. When she gave paid the fare, she included a huge tip, "so he could get those tickets," she told him with a smile.

Feeling invincible, she entered Darcy Records.

A smiling Jacob saw her approach and waved her through, informing her that she was expected on the twelfth floor. She rode up, trying to contain her nerves, anxious about the meeting. When the elevator doors opened, a petite woman with uncontrollable red hair, dressed professionally in a tailored navy suit, rushed forward startling Elizabeth.

"Hello, I'm Gloria Stein. We spoke on the phone yesterday. I'm without a doubt, a huge fan of your work, Ms. Bennet."

"Lizzy, please."

"Lizzy." A hand was extended in her direction. "If you'll just follow me, I'll introduce you to the rest of your team."

"My team?" She shook the proffered hand. She hadn't expected to be met at the elevator or informed that she had a team.

"Oh, yes." The petite woman answered, beaming.

"Will Mr. Darcy be joining us this morning?" Elizabeth had been unable to stop herself from asking.

Gloria swung open the door to a long hallway before turning back to her. "No, I'm afraid not. Mr. Darcy is never been that involved in the marketing end of the business. But then, artists rarely have much interaction with him at all. He likes to keep his distance."

Elizabeth was confused by this information. That hadn't been her experience at all. He had been a fixture in her life for months. Maybe he only kept a close eye on those artists he produced personally.

Indicating that she should follow her, Gloria led her passed several doors. "I want to apologize sincerely for not being here the other day to meet with you. I was at lunch. It was entirely my fault and won't happen again."

"I don't see how the other day could have been your fault. I just dropped by on a lark." Elizabeth hoped she hadn't gotten the woman in any sort of trouble. "I should've called ahead. You have absolutely nothing to apologize over."

The red-head laughed genuinely, said they could agree to disagree, and it was her job to make sure that everything went smoothly from here on out. She would make sure that Elizabeth had her phone numbers and email address so she could be contacted directly whenever there was a need day or night. When they reached her office, two professionally dressed young women around her sister Mary's age were waiting for them. Gloria indicated Elizabeth should have a seat next to them and took her place behind a well-organized desk.

"Before we get started, I have to say that everyone at Darcy Records was sorry to hear about your fire. It must have been a terrifying experience." The two women nodded their agreement. Elizabeth thanked them for their concern, then Gloria continued. "We are your team, Sallie, Paula and I, and our goal is to make sure that you have everything you need at all times. Sallie will serve as your personal assistant, and Paula will be in charge of organizing the logistics for you and your band's travel. I manage them and will be your point person. Mr. Darcy has stressed that you're only to be concerned with your performances. We're to be at your beck and call."

Elizabeth ignore the chill that sliced through her. They were to be at her beck and call because he could no longer be bothered with her. He hated the very sight of her. For a minute, she allowed herself to fixate on the loss brought by that knowledge, but then she rallied her spirit. She had business to conduct here, and these women had clearly worked hard to make sure she was successful. "Let's just jump right in shall we?"

Gloria was, contrary to her sycophantic treatment at her arrival, all about business. From the look of the itinerary Elizabeth was handed and in the way she conducted the meeting, her PR manager was a control freak. She should've known that Darcy wouldn't have an incompetent person on his staff.

In a matter of an hour, the next three weeks of her life after her Thanksgiving break were set. Each day was booked with performances, meetings, and rehearsals—morning to night, solid. Gloria stressed that the real work would begin after the first month ended, when the tour dates were finalized. It was hard to take in what a whirlwind her life was going to become.

Right now, there were ten dates and cities selected, but Gloria imagined the tour would be extended to seventeen by the time Elizabeth returned from her break. Her opening act was still being finalized. The schedule was going to be brutal. Darcy had known this all along. It was why he'd been so adamant about her conditioning. Sallie and Paulo were given tasks and the two exited the meeting.

Elizabeth couldn't believe it. She was going to be on _Saturday Night Live_! She was going to sing the National Anthem for a _Jets_ game. To start off her media appearances, she would be appearing on the _Charles Bingley Show._

"Charles Bingley wants me to do his show?" It had been Jane's favorite show on TV. Her sister had found the affable man quite charming and stayed up late each night to watch him.

"Oh, yes. Out of everyone, he's been the most determined to have you appear. We've had to decline his invitation twice while we were waiting for you to contact us." Gloria looked up from her own copy of the schedule. "In fact, to appease him, Mr. Darcy promised him that he'd make sure that you would perform live on his show before appearing anywhere else."

"Really?" She chewed her lip. "I'm surprised that Will would let anyone dictate to him my appearances."

"Normally, I'd agree. However, Mr. Bingley is one of Mr. Darcy's best friends. Closer friends you'd have trouble finding." Digesting this piece of information, Elizabeth noticed the pink and blue bars across certain times of some days and asked what those were. "Sierra, who I believe is your personal trainer," Gloria consulted notes on an I-Pad. "Yes, she is the pink bar. When you are in town, you'll continue to make use of the gym facilities, but she has agreed to travel with you on trips where you're gone for two days or more. The blue bar is Dr. Tanner. When you're out of town, you'll continue your sessions with him by webcam."

Everything else was self-explanatory, but she was curious about one thing. "I do have one question. Who's the _Band of Funk_?" Most of her performances indicated they would be with her.

"Oh, that's the name of your band."

"I hadn't realized that _The Hole House_ had been given a new name." She scrunched up her nose. "Who decided on the name _Band of Funk_?"

"A new name? No, no!" Her manager shook her head. " _The Hole_ _House_ isn't going on tour with you. Out of the forty bands that Mr. Darcy auditioned the last few weeks, _Funk_ was the very best. He believes it's important you have experienced musicians on the stage with you at all times. "

Darcy didn't have the time to return a phone call, but he had time to audition forty bands? She wouldn't let this slight of her band stand. " _The Hole_ _House_ is experienced."

Gloria's easy smile faltered. "Mr. Darcy indicated he wants _Funk_. You understand."

She understood. More than the woman in front of her would ever know. "What you are telling me, then, is that my wishes aren't going to be considered at all in this decision."

Gloria became visibly distressed at not being able to please her and please Darcy at the same time. After a moment, Elizabeth took pity on the woman who had only followed her boss' orders. She relaxed her posture, smiling sympathetically. "Don't worry about it, Gloria. I'll simply take it up with Will myself." She didn't know when or where, but she was bound to see him at some point. This would be a bone of contention for her. He had to know it would be.

"Lizzy," the woman took a deep breath, "I have to warn you that Mr. Darcy isn't the sort of man who negotiates. He's very decisive. I fear you might just have to accept his decision."

She felt her ire raise at her egomaniacal producer. "With all due respect, Gloria, you don't know me yet, but I fight for my friends. They've worked hard on this album and deserve to reap the benefits. I can't in good conscience let this stand without giving him my thoughts about it."

"I don't mean to disrespectful, Lizzy, at all. It's just that Mr. Darcy doesn't spend much time catering to the wishes of our artists. And, he has been rather emphatic about replacing them with _The Band of Funk_. He doesn't want _The Hole House_ touring with you. The matter has been settled. You will have to do as he wishes." Gloria's cell phone chimed. "Excuse me." The redhead's eyes widened. "Well, it looks like you're going to have the opportunity to talk to him about it sooner than we thought. Mr. Darcy would like to meet with you today if you are available."

"Of course." Elizabeth's mouth went dry at the knowledge that he finally wanted to see her. Gloria was noticeably curious about this meeting. "Please let him know that I am available whenever he would like."

Gloria relayed the message with a few quick keystrokes, then laid her phone on the desk. "He'll probably have Maggie, his secretary, call me back soon to setup a time for your meeting." Another chime. "Well, it seems like there's no time like the present. Mr. Darcy said he'd like for you to come to his office right now." She looked at Elizabeth appraisingly. "Alone."

 _Alone?_ Elizabeth hid the effect of the words on her equilibrium. She remembered very well the last time they were alone. "Well, Will and I have a lot to discuss. I guess I shouldn't keep him waiting."


	15. Chapter 10 Part 1

My Fibby and my editor have approved this chapter. I wouldn't have had the guts to post anything if it wasn't for the work you two ladies do for me. Plus, your warm support and patience. It is quite addictive. I might have to double your pay :)

To SkyBlue - I hope this is a good send off for your trip. I am so flattered by your compliments.

To Shellyprz - Sorry - no Pouncing or Kissing in this chapter. But, I promise it is coming - soon. I like sexy time as much as the next woman who is hung up on our gorgeous, misunderstood hero. And, Elizabeth can only fight the attraction for so long, right? She is only human after all. And, he is quite wonderful when he wants to be.

To Lou Darcy - I did warn you. Let me know if I delivered on my promise. Snicker Snicker.

And, lastly, to Liketoreadnotwrite - This Chapter is dedicated to you. I am so deeply sorry for your loss of your mother. Nothing will ever replace her. I know that personally. To know my stories provided you a small measure of comfort in the _worst of worst times_ moves me beyond words.

 **Girl On Fire: Chapter 10 - Part 1**

 _How many times do I have to tell you_ _  
_ _Even when you're crying you're beautiful too_ _  
_ _The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood_ _  
_ _You're my downfall, you're my muse_ _  
_ _My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues_ _  
_ _I can't stop singing, it's ringing in my head for you_

 _All of Me John Legend_

Darcy's lobby wasn't crowded, but there were several people waiting to speak with him. From the irritated expression worn by some, they'd been kept waiting a while. Elizabeth frowned. His office was normally run like a top, an efficient machine in motion. It was unusual to see a queue of backlogged visitors. If such people of prominence and importance were being made to wait, she wondered how long it'd be before he would deign to see her.

Elizabeth decided she would use the time to organize her thoughts. She needed to find a persuasive argument to make Darcy agree to permit _The Hole House_ on tour while going through the trouble of having Max replaced. Maybe Paul would have a suggestion? She could call him while she waited so she would be ready at the meeting with a list of names for a viable replacement.

But, more importantly than discussing _The Hole House_ , Elizabeth wanted him to know that their alienation had gone on long enough. She was just going to throw caution to the wind and admit that she missed him. His absence in her life had caused a painful void. She missed his good judgment and his friendship. She'd throw herself on his mercy. She would be willing to do almost anything to make up with him. Who knew, maybe she'd get lucky. Maybe, he'd missed her a little too? God, she was pathetic. She was no better than all the other women who were cast aside by him.

"Oh, Lizzy, I can't tell you how good it is to see you again!" Maggie stood, came around the impressive desk and hugged her tightly. The greeting both startled and touched Elizabeth. "Mr. Darcy said to send you right in when you arrived."

Elizabeth was confused, glancing at those waiting, then thanked Maggie before heading to his door. She was nervous to see him. More nervous than she'd been when she came to sign her contract all those months ago. Would he still hate her? Want nothing to do with her? Was he still angry? Would he be receptive to her apology? She froze looking at the door with reservation.

"Is everything alright?" Maggie looked concerned.

Nodding, Elizabeth took a fortifying breath and entered his office.

Her first thought was that she'd obviously misunderstood Gloria. This wasn't the private meeting she'd anticipated. Richard was also in attendance. While she normally enjoyed the attorney's company, it was abundantly clear he was there in a professional capacity.

Elizabeth's disappointed gaze locked onto Darcy. She drank in his presence in his suit without his jacket. The crisp white shirt a stark contrast to his tanned skin and jet black curls. Longing swept through her. His blue eyes were cold, distant, staring right through her as if she were a stranger. No, not a promising reception at all.

After both men rose politely, Darcy spoke first. "Ms. Bennet, thank you for making time for us this morning."

 _Ms. Bennet?_ Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time he'd addressed her so formally, and it further rattled her composure. "Of course."

The two cousins resumed their seats. Situated like this, they were going to face her like opponents. Slipping out of her leather coat, she laid it along with her purse in one of the empty seats. Her mouth felt like a desert. Helping herself to a bottle of water from the small refrigerator, she cracked it open and sipped from it well aware she was stalling. Making them wait for her somehow restored her equilibrium. When she felt ready, Elizabeth took an empty seat adopting a much more relaxed posture than either man she faced.

She forced a smile, pretending that Richard had just joined her and Darcy for a friendly lunch as he had in the past. "How's Esme?"

Caught off guard by her question, the attorney smiled reflexively, as he always did when his wife was introduced into a conversation. "She's well. In fact, we just found out that we're expecting."

"What wonderful news! Congratulations!" Elizabeth was sincerely happy for the couple. "When is she due?"

"Mid-July."

"Oh, I think summer babies are the luckiest. They get to have pool parties and —"

"Cut it out, Elizabeth." Darcy rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to the elbow on one arm, then began on the other. "Let's dispense with the act, shall we? This isn't a social call. You know perfectly well why you're here. Don't pretend otherwise."

She had a strong suspicion due to the timing, but thought it better to let him reveal their agenda. She sipped from her water bottle, giving him an innocent look.

"You're here because of this." He slid a copy of the previous morning's entertainment section on the table between them. It stopped in front of her.

Elizabeth had thought the article would provoke him. She'd been right. "I've seen it."

Scowling, he clearly expected more. Gone completely was the indifferent mask he'd worn upon her entrance. "Have you seen this as well?"

After typing something into his I-Pad, Darcy handed it to Elizabeth. Even though the footage was grainy, it was clear someone had captured performance at _The Hole_ and had uploaded it to You Tube. She was aware of the fact both men were watching her closely for a reaction. After _Wrecked_ concluded, the video zoomed in on her crying before ending abruptly. She put the device on the table feeling strangely vulnerable. It seemed so obvious that she had written the song for him. Had he liked it? Had it softened his resentment of her in any way? She looked at him trying to gauge his feelings. He didn't look flattered in the slightest.

"Do you understand that performing at _The Hole_ violated the exclusivity clause of your contract?" Richard's voice was patient, as if he were talking to a child. She knew she could lie, claim ignorance, but instead she nodded honestly. After all, she had known. "You realize that Darcy Records could terminate you for such a breach?"

Wasn't firing her an over-reaction for singing a few songs at a friend's bar? Darcy leaned back in his chair expressionless. Did he want to get rid of her? She had to know. She hated that her voice wavered slightly, "Is that what you want, Will? Do you want to fire me?"

He didn't answer her, but stared on in silence.

When he didn't answer, Richard did. "No, Lizzy, no one here wants to do something so drastic for one little infraction." He placed a copy of the contract she signed on the table next to the newspaper. Again, in his patient voice he offered, "Your copy of our contract was more than likely destroyed in the fire so we wanted to make sure that you have a copy to consult. Will and I— _we_ — felt it was important to meet with you today and remind you of your obligations to the label."

Elizabeth didn't reach for the document. She'd committed certain sections of it to memory during those particularly terrible days when she thought she would tear Darcy's head off if she had to spend another minute in his presence. Her eyes drifted back to him. It was certainly ironic to know that now she'd give anything for that time back, to have even those miserable days back, to have him in her life again. Not this stranger who didn't seem to care one way or the other about the outcome of this meeting. Coldly ambivalent. As if she never mattered at all. The small hope budding in her chest when Gloria told her he wanted to see her died painfully in her breast.

"I understood my obligations, Richard." She lowered her head, feeling strangely beaten.

Darcy spoke up then, "You understood your obligation _to me_ but you still let your _so called friends_ pressure you to perform anyway?"

The implication that Phillip and Malcolm were taking advantage of her upset her. Angered her. "No one pressured me into doing anything, Will. Not everyone is out to take advantage of me."

"Meaning what exactly?" Darcy asked sharply. His eyes narrowed. "Are you implying that someone here has taken advantage of you?"

Elizabeth blushed. She hadn't meant it the way it had sounded. Looking from one man to the other, she wondered suddenly if Darcy confided in his cousin about their shared time in his penthouse. Had he told him the intimate details of the night they shared? Had they laughed over her reaction to him? How easily she had succumbed to the passion he evoked in her? Had she entertained them with her subsequent pitiful phone messages? She felt sick suddenly. What Richard must think of her! She realized that Darcy was glaring at her, waiting on an answer.

"Of course not, Will." She shrugged trying to adopt an air of nonchalance. "I just wanted to sing. There's nothing more to it."

"There's a hell of a lot more to it than that, and you damn well know it." He pointed at her. "You are under contract." Then, he turned his finger toward his chest. "With me."

Oh, he was angry alright. He could hide it in his expressionless face, but it was all in his voice. He sounded as angry as when he had dealt with Suzzanne. Angrier, perhaps.

Richard jumped in then, adding in a sympathetic tone, "If we cancel your contract, Lizzy, how would you be able to repay all the money we've paid out? Before your advance, your medical bills and wardrobe are well in excess of a two hundred thousand dollars."

So much had been spent on her? The sum was truly staggering. Of course, it was such an obscenely large amount to refine her rough edges. No wonder Darcy'd been so initially reluctant to sign her the night they met. From the beginning, he'd understood the financial risk involved much better than she ever would. However, none of these thoughts changed the fact what Richard said now was wrong.

"I'm not required under the document I signed to repay anything but my advance if you terminate my contract."

"It's standard language in all of our contracts. Section Four, Paragraph six. " Richard flipped a few pages into the untouched document, dragged his finger to a clause, before stopping not finding what he'd believed to be there. He looked at Darcy with a strained look.

"As far as the advance, I haven't spent any of it. If you want, I can return it to you. I can write you a check today." She turned to retrieve her purse, then paused. "But let me make sure I understand this correctly. If you terminate my contract, I'd be free to perform where and when I want again?"

Darcy sprung to his feet, slamming his palm on the table causing her empty water bottle to tip and roll harmlessly off the table. "You're out of your mind if you think I'll release you from our contract."

"Will!" Richard paled, placing a steadying hand on his cousin's arm.

Darcy shook off the restraining hand, but his voice was composed when he continued. "I mean what I say, Elizabeth. I'm going to warn you only one time. I can make what you want most go away in a snap." He demonstrated with his fingers.

What did he know about what she wanted most? He'd already taken away his friendship. Banished her from his life. In that moment, Elizabeth didn't care what he did with the beautiful songs they'd crafted together. He could take them and lock them away forever. If this was what success felt like, he could keep it all. She was miserable. Miserably in love with him. "Do your worse, Will! Don't release the CD if you don't want to. I don't care anymore."

He flinched as if she had smacked him. Then, he scowled, leaning forward on the table, questioning her in a low menacing growl, "You don't care? What about your 'fellas,' Elizabeth? Are they as cavalier as you? As fickle? Will they care when I dismantle their precious little business as easily as if was a house made of cards? That I **wreck** them as completely as I can?"

Darcy would do it. Elizabeth had absolutely no delusions about it. He would do it to strike back at her. To injure her when nothing else could. To punish her. An unchecked, angry Will Darcy would deal with anyone who crossed him with ruthless efficiency. He considered her the enemy. She didn't know how to make him understand she didn't want to be his enemy.

"This is between us, Will." Her chin rose. She felt the tears in her eyes and willed them to remain unshed. "I beg you leave them out of this."

"You're one fine actress, Elizabeth. I almost believe you do care about them." An unnatural smile curled the corner of his lips. He simply said, "No."

She wasn't surprised Darcy would not surrender his trump card over her.

Here Richard indicated his cousin should sit back down. Darcy did clearly against his better judgment. "Lizzy, we don't want our relationship to become adversarial. We all win if your upcoming release is successful. Think of this meeting as an opportunity for everyone to air out grievances and hammer out some finer details."

Elizabeth did not trust herself to speak again. She seethed. She had something she'd like to hammer, and she had grievances—oh, did she have grievances!

"You have obligations to me. I only make money if I have a product that is in demand. Nothing is made if you give it away for free." She bristled at the implication of his words, but listened in silence when Darcy continued, "You'll agree that you'll never perform at any venue again without my explicit approval. There'll be no more _special appearances_ at _The Hole_. Or anywhere else for that matter. In fact, if you so much as sing in the shower in front of someone else and I find out about it, I'll make it a point to crush anyone associated with that dump."

It was clear now. She'd signed a contract with the Devil. She'd given her heart to a heartless monster in a designer suit.

"For the next two years and six months, I won't perform anywhere without Darcy Record's permission." She agreed in her sweetest voice. "However, if I faithfully abide by your terms, I want it in writing that _The Hole_ is safe from you."

"How dare you ask me for assurances when I'm the _injured_ party here!" Injured party?Will Darcy, poor multi-millionaire, was the injured party. It was comical. She laughed at the very thought. Her laughter clearly only irritated him further. He thumped his finger against the table to emphasis his point. " _You_ deliberately opened your friends up to risk when _you_ performed after signing _your_ contract that prohibited it. _They_ were informed of our proprietary rights to you, and _they_ allowed you to perform anyway. I'm sure you've heard the expression you reap what you sow?"

Elizabeth had a few expressions she'd like to acquaint him. If they were alone, she wouldn't have hesitated at all. She bent down and picked up the bottle of water that had fallen, placing it firmly on the table between them. They obviously were at an impasse.

"Will," Richard turned to his cousin, "perhaps giving Lizzy the assurance in writing that you will not proceed with any litigation against _The Hole_ would make her more willing to consider your offer."

"What offer would that be?" She asked suspiciously.

"As you know, Darcy Records has expended far more capital than we originally anticipated to get you performance ready. In order to recoup those losses, I want to expand your contract from three to five years."

She laughed throatily, then sobered when neither man joined her. "You're not serious."

"I am quite serious."

Richard smiled warmly asking cordially, "Is there any way you'd consider changing the length of your contract with us? Anything we can do to convince you?"

"Sure, I'll be glad to change the length." She strangled the empty water bottle in her hands. "How about we shave off a year or two? Or an album or two?"

Darcy countered, "How about Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars guaranteed?"

Her mouth fell open. Such a staggering sum. What could she do with so much money? She could pay off her parent's mortgage. Send Mary to Europe, pay for Kitty's art school and Lydia would never have to worry, as she had, about working while attending college. There'd be enough to even help out the fellas. She found herself warming to the idea of simply signing away another two years of her life to buy comfort for all those she loved.

 _ **Wait.**_

This didn't make any sense. Why would he offer her so much money if he was losing money on her? Had already lost so much on her? What wasn't he telling her?

Darcy continued, "You'll be expected to increase your album output from four to six. I'll control the song selections. I'll remain on as your producer."

There was no way she could do two extra albums with him. The remaining ones she'd already agreed to were going to be enough penance for a lifetime. Being alone with him, close to him for any length of time would be sheer torture. Especially if this was how he was going to react to her. She wasn't sure how she was going to stand it. Survive it. She was honest. "I don't think I can do it if you are producing."

She had expected another explosion, but instead, it was as if his anger snuffed out. The light completely extinguished in his eyes. The unfeeling mask had fallen firmly back in its place.

Richard offered "What if we negotiate who'll be in the booth with you? Maybe Paul? Or -"

"No." Darcy said firmly, cutting his cousin off. "If I am not producing her albums, then there will be no extension."

Richard looked like he was wrestling with his patience and losing. "Lizzy, you should seriously consider our offer. It's very lucrative. I think it shows that Darcy Records is interested in a long and profitable partnership. If you want to take some time to think it over, I could put something together for you to review — "

"I don't need any time to consider it." She could not look at Darcy. She took a deep steadying breath, "I won't do it. After my current contract ends, I want to be free to do what I want."

"Free?" Darcy's voice sounded strange, different, strangled.

"Yes." Elizabeth was suddenly furious at this entire ambush. Furious that her hopes had been dashed so cruelly. Her performance at _The Hole_ certainly had been a violation, but there had to be some other reason she had been invited here. She wanted to get it out in the open so she could leave this disastrous meeting. Lick her wounds in private. Cry in solitude. "Now that you've threatened me and bullied me, why don't you two cut to the chase? Why am I really here?"

Without another word or look in her direction, Darcy pulled back from the table and stalked to the windows behind his desk. He stood legs apart, arms folded, glaring down on the rest of New York as if he could intimidate the entire city.

Richard looked after him, before looking back to her and soldiering on solo. "I'll be frank with you, Lizzy. _Wrecked_ is a special song. When we heard it this morning, we thought it should be on the album. We can bump delivery of your CD out two weeks but we've got to get you into the studio and record it now. Strike while the proverbial iron is hot."

The request surprised her. Even though it was Richard talking, she knew Darcy was behind this request. He must believe in the song. Why else would he be willing to postpone the release of her album?

Tempted more than she would like to admit, she asked, "When would we record it?"

The truth was that the moment she'd finished _Wrecked_ , she'd wanted to share it with him. She was curious about the changes he'd make to it. Those brilliant tweaks that had always brought out the best in her music. The song would have been exactly the way it sounded in her head if he had been involved in the process.

"We'll start on Monday." Darcy said from his side of the room. He did not look at her. "Hopefully, it can be completed by Wednesday. I've hired a film crew to record the process. _Wrecked_ will serve as your first video. It'll be released a week before your CD goes on sale to help kick off the PR blitz Gloria discussed with you today."

Moving to sit on the corner of his desk, he continued down an impressive list of things that needed to be accomplished if they were going to meet the tight window. He'd never change. The familiarity of it made her smile bitter sweetly.

As if her smile offended him, his voice became sterner. " _The Band of Funk_ will back you on _Wrecked_ instead of _The Hole_ _House_. As I've stated repeatedly, a professional band needs to be with you on your tour. There's no reason you shouldn't start your collaboration now."

It was like being dunked in the Arctic Ocean. His coldness as he casually dispatched her friends! He'd even forgotten her Thanksgiving trip home. It was just another reminder of how little he now cared for her. How she was no longer important to him. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Will, but I fly out of LaGuardia tomorrow. I simply can't be in two places at once."

He straightened. "You're still planning on going home after being off for three weeks?"

"Perhaps you should be the one to consult our contract. It's full of fascinating things. Including that I get the week of Thanksgiving off."

He paced, stopping to glare at her. "I've already permitted you an extensive break."

"And I thank you for your generosity," she responded tartly.

"You're being unreasonable. I've had everyone re-arrange their schedule."

"I'm sorry, but you did all of that without consulting me." She crossed her arms.

"Sorry?" His laugh lacked any humor. "You're not sorry in the slightest."

Darcy was wrong. She was sorry. Just for things she couldn't say in front of others. The beginnings of a headache took root behind her eyes. "Look, it doesn't matter. We can just put _Wrecked_ on the next album. I already have many other songs we could use." She retrieved her notebook from her purse. It was half full. After _Wrecked_ , lyrics had just rushed out of her. He should be pleased. They were all love songs full of yearning and heartbreak. Not one of them optimistic in any way. Just like he liked her to sing.

Darcy's considerable attention focused on the notebook.

For just a moment, Elizabeth saw the spark of his familiar, naked curiosity. Music had always brought them together in the past. Connected them. Improbable hope returned. She had something in which he was still interested. Her songs.

Her mind whirled through the possibilities. She just wanted what they had back again when they made their album together. She didn't deserve it, but she wanted it. She was desperate to get it back. Just this little piece of him would satisfy her. Could music be the foothold to climb into his life again? Conceding this victory to him could be the catalyst to end their estrangement. Give him back a measure of pride if he won this battle? Perhaps, it wasn't too late to undo all the damage she'd caused. Soothe his masculine ego. Give in. Submit to his wishes.

"Fine." Elizabeth relaxed coming to a decision. "I'll change my vacation plans. I'll do it because you ask me too." He looked suspicious. "I only have one small condition."

"Of course, you do." He sounded so much like his old self it made her heart ache.

"I won't do it without _The Hole_ _House_." She couldn't turn her back on her friends. They'd been with her from the beginning. "If they're out, I'm out."

The struggle could not be concealed on his face. She held his gaze. Willing him to be reasonable.

Like a spectator in a slow tennis match, Richard watched them both, his attention leaving one to drift to the other. A long excruciating minute passed. Finally, he prodded, "Will?"

"Go ahead and make arrangements for them to be here at nine sharp on Monday." It was difficult to keep the victorious smile from her face, but she was glad she managed it when he added, "No matter how much you beg me, they will not be going on tour with you. There's nothing you could do to get me to agree to it, Elizabeth. Nothing. You better start getting used to the idea now."

Elizabeth didn't understand why he'd never warmed to her friends, but she wouldn't give up her campaign for them. If it was a war he wanted, frankly, it was a war he was going to get. For now, though, it was better to let him think he'd won the battle. She gave him a lukewarm smile. "Since it's what you want, I'll try to get use to the idea."

Again, there was that look. The one of supreme distrust. Then, he glanced at his watch. "Unless there's something else, I've spent enough of my time dealing with this nonsense. It's made me late for important meetings. You know the way out."

Being dismissed by him in such a way stung. Her capitulation had gained nothing but made her look weak. Unable to hide her own hurt feelings, Elizabeth stood grabbing her belongings in a huff. "In the future, gentlemen," her hot gaze included Richard, "when we're going to discuss any aspect of my contract I want to be notified ahead of time so I can arrange to have my own attorney present."

"That would be the prudent thing, Elizabeth." Darcy agreed as he opened a folder on his desk and began reading it as if she was now an afterthought. "You should have someone represent your business interests at all times. Usually artists bring a whole host of people with them – attorneys, agents, advisors – to help spell things out in negotiations, review contracts."

"Where was this sage advice the day I signed with you?"

He looked up from his work. "I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm your employer. It is not my job to protect you from bad business decisions or any other questionable choices you make with your life."

Darcy was right. He wasn't responsible for her poor business acumen. She should've known better. She'd just been so discombobulated from hearing Jane's voice on the subway platform she'd accepted Darcy's offer and signed his infernal contract on blind faith alone. None of that was his fault. Without another glance at either men, she snatched the copy of her contract from the table and stormed from the office before she made a complete fool of herself and burst into tears.

One thing was abundantly clear. If she had ever meant anything to Darcy, she didn't anymore.


	16. Chapter 10 Part 2

My Fibby and editor have approved this chapter. Of course, I tinkered after you gave your blessing, I just couldn't help myself. I'm bad :( Any flaw in this chapter is of my creation and not reflected on these two wonderful special ladies. If you catch a mistake, PM me and I'll fix it.

I unfortunately need a few more chapters of angst before our dear couple come together completely. The version I envisioned has a few plot twists. To tell the story I want to tell, I need at least another 4-8 chapters. I hope you will not be disappointed. I don't actually like angst for angst sake. But, Darcy has to be given his chance at redemption. I think some of you might soften your stance on our dear boy after this chapter (you hold outs I hope I can get you onboard in the next few chapters). One of you guessed at a major plot twist. It's amazing how you all seem to do it even though I want to keep you guessing.

To AbbaLane - You weren't the only one to complain about Elizabeth's complete caving to Darcy's wishes, but you were the most helpful. I love to hear people venting about my story almost as much as when they give me kudos. It means they feel invested in the characters. I really appreciate it the constructive criticism. It actually helped me add some texture and depth to this chapter that I hadn't thought was necessary before I read your post.

To Shellyprz - We're getting closer to the pouncing :)

To Ali Kisugi - No mention of Stronger in the chapters. It will be revealed when he wrote it and why he titled it that though in the next few chapters. I'm glad you caught the reference to the first song. Sometimes, I think I am being as obvious as Darcy thinks he is. It makes me SQUEE out loud whenever someone gets one of my Easter Eggs.

In this Kingdom by the Sea - You've gotten your wish. Sometimes I think people are hacking into my computer and see what the next chapter has in store.

To everyone else - thanks so much for your comments, suggestions, praise, criticism, they are all eagerly read and thought over. I can't tell you how much they have helped me craft this story.

Good news! I was sitting at a traffic jam the other day, and my writer's block (or story block) suddenly unfurled. I know how to proceed! The reason my muses were being so silent is because I was writing in the wrong direction. Fellow authors understand I am sure. Chapter 11 is proceeding and I hope to have it up after a week hiatus. This Chapter will have to do until then. I hope you like it!

Oh, and I apologize in advance for the cliffy - I think it might be the best one in any story I have written to date. Enjoy.

 **Girl On Fire: Chapter 10 - Part 2**

Hush little baby, don't say a word  
And never mind that noise you heard  
It's just the beasts under your bed  
In your closet, in your head

 _Enter the Sandman Metallica_

The moment the door closed behind Elizabeth, Darcy felt his bravado evaporate. He sagged in his seat, as the heaviness of the last past weeks, which had momentarily lifted seeing her, crashed down on him.

Richard sighed. Loudly. Darcy knew he was upset about the removed clause. Might as well admit his mistake outright. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have meddled with the contract."

"No, you shouldn't have." His cousin swiveled in the chair to look at Darcy. "What were you thinking removing that clause?"

Darcy knew exactly what he had been thinking. He wanted to own her. Possess her raw talent. He still did.

"I don't like any of this, Will." Richard voice showcased his unusual frustration. "I'm concerned that your decisions have left us exposed."

"I don't think she'll perform again without our approval." He may not have the threat of repayment over her head, but he had the threat against _The Hole_. It was an idle one. He couldn't destroy it. They'd met in that dirty little dump. It would forever have a place in his heart. She didn't need to know it though. He wanted her to think he was the unfeeling bastard she believed him to be. Too quickly, she would realize she was the one with all the leverage. He smiled wryly. "Or, at least, she won't anytime soon."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!" Darcy was surprised by his hostility. "Let me be perfectly blunt with you. Does she have grounds for a sexual harassment lawsuit?" He was not quick enough to school his features. "Jesus, Will! You've never done anything remotely this foolish in your entire life. We could lose everything we've built here. What were you thinking?"

He hadn't been really thinking. He hadn't been about to think anything but her for months.

"If you won't release her, as your attorney, I advise you to have a different producer handle her from here on out. Stay away from her. Keep your distance."

Shaking his head, Darcy wiped at his mouth. He knew he was going to ignore his cousin's well meant advice as much he had the day they signed Elizabeth. He attempted another smile. "At least, the meeting wasn't a complete loss. She did agree to do _Wrecked_. It's what we wanted, right?"

"Is it?" His cousin sound exasperated. "Her recording the damn song was what I wanted. Was why you brought me here, but it wasn't the reason for this meeting. What did you really hope to accomplish from this meeting, Will?"

To see her. He had wanted to see her.

After all what he really wanted, Elizabeth wouldn't give him. He wanted All of Her. He wanted to be in her life, share his with her. Every day, he found himself talking in his head to her.

And, what did Elizabeth want? How did she feel about him? She wanted to be _Free._ His mind kept circling back to that one very salient point. She wanted to be free. _Free! Free of him!_ After all he had done for her, given to her, sacrificed for her, and she could think of nothing but wanting to cut the fragile ties that remained between them.

He was just a means to an end. A step she took for the advancement of her career. He felt used. Is this how the women he dated felt after he called an end to their relationship? Even though he was honest about his rules up front with them, some had still engaged in fantasies he would feel more for them. Looking at his past relationships, he knew there were several that he had hurt. Several he had callously moved on from without a second thought. Now that he knew what it felt like he regretted his treatment of the women he had dated in the past. This ache of insignificance was almost worst than the disappointment of finding out that Elizabeth did not return his feelings.

Darcy stood and went to his bar, eyeing the decanter of Scotch. The good stuff. He'd been drunk far too many times these last few weeks. It wasn't good for business. At the end of the day, he was a business man. Cutthroat. Cold. Distant. He'd have to harden himself over the weekend.

After all, they'd be working together on Monday. There'd be too many people about—video crew, sound crew, musicians. One too many damn musicians. How had she manipulated him into agreeing to allow that man back in his studio? How! He knew how. If he couldn't have her, he could have their connection again. To feel like he was important to her.

Even if he had to share her with others, he wanted to be part of recording _Wrecked._

There was never a doubt after Darcy heard the song that she would want it on her album. Elizabeth wanted to be a star. To that end, she'd want only the best for her debut. He couldn't blame her blind ambition. In truth, he admired her tenacity. She'd come to New York with only one goal in mind. Nothing and no one was going to get in her way. Underneath the waif was a surprising fighter that he respected.

"Reconsider, Will. Let me terminate her contract." Richard shut his briefcase with a loud click reminding him that he was still there. "Let's cut our losses. Move on."

"What losses?" Darcy looked at his cousin in astonishment. "There's not going to be any losses. You know that. You saw that performance at _The Hole_. Even now, the advance orders for the CD are triple our expenses. That was before the free publicity with the YouTube video and that article in the paper calling us out. You know the public eats that stuff up. Since the release of _Stronger,_ Gloria has been fielding offers begging for her to appear and we've released only one song. After she appears on Bingley's show and the world sees her perform live, it is going to only increase the demand for her."

"Let's forget for a moment that she could sue you, or sue us, the personal cost you're paying is too high, Will." He took a deep breath before continuing, "You have to know I'm not talking about money."

It was clear his cousin was only trying to help, but Darcy couldn't cancel their contract any more than he could stay away from the studio for the recording. It was all he had left of her. There was not going to be any more dinners, phone calls, workouts, rides to and from work. All of that was over. THIS was all he had left.

Darcy forced himself to say calmly, "You agreed with me that _Wrecked_ needed to be on the album."

"I do. But, I don't think you are up for it. Let Paul or Gia produce it. There's no reason you have to be here. No reason to put yourself through this. Head out of town early for Thanksgiving. You and Georgie can drive to my parents with me and Esme. You need to get some separation from this. From her. You need time."

Everything down to a cellular level rejected the idea. They'd be enough separation from her when Elizabeth went on tour. He wouldn't see her for weeks at a time unless he went to one of her shows. Reverting once more to being an anonymous fan skulking in the shadow of her life.

"Your hurting, Will. You obviously are still not over whatever happened between you two?"

No, he agreed silently, he wasn't. Darcy gave in then and poured himself a scotch, swallowing it quickly. He thought about pouring another but he couldn't afford to drown his sorrows. He had meetings. So many meetings.

"You realize you're scaring Georgie."

Yes, damn it, Darcy knew he was scaring his sister. It was impossible not to notice. For the last week since his breakdown, his sister had been staying with him at the penthouse, cursing Elizabeth, cursing the day she met Elizabeth, and most violently cursing the day she had introduced them. It had taken every ounce of his persuasion to talk his little sister out of going to _The Hole_ and cursing her in person.

The funny thing was that Darcy had actually convinced himself that he was ready to see her. What a delusion! When Elizabeth walked into his office - he barely could stand it. He'd been attracted to her from nearly the beginning, but now - ! He had gotten what he wanted. Elizabeth looked every bit the part of a star. She was glowing - her makeup was impeccable and her clothes had conformed to her body's every advantage - the thigh-high boots had seemed to go on forever, and that blouse revealed way too much cleavage. She had never looked more desirable.

If they had met alone, Darcy wouldn't have been able to stop himself from touching her. Wouldn't have been able to stop himself from making himself a fool over her. Begging her as he had on that night on the subway platform. To give him another chance to be the sort of man that could make her happy. Just, if they could, only start over.

This weakness for her angered him. The fact she breezed into his office looking as if she didn't have a care in the world annoyed him. It wasn't fair. He was barely holding himself together and she had never looked more confident.

"I just don't understand this at all, Will." Richard threw his hands up in the air. "You were even composing again. What happened between the two of you? What did you do to mess things up so badly?"

"I did the most stupid think of my life." It was painful to admit the truth. He couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all. "I fell in love with her, Richard. I couldn't help myself. I was in the middle before I even knew I'd begun."

His cousin's mouth parted, shocked. "Don't you think you should tell her? Let her know how you feel about her instead of - " he waved his hand at the door, "whatever that was."

"That's great advice. Why didn't I think of that myself?" Darcy could not keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "And, I might try it sometime if it wasn't for the fact that Elizabeth is madly in love with someone else."

"Madly in love with someone else?" Richard's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "When would she have found the time? Either she was with you or in the studio every day. You two practically lived in each other's pockets. Will, you have to be mistaken."

He wasn't, but he would give anything he owned to be wrong. "It's Max. She's in love with him."

"The bassist? No. No, that's not right. She told Esme that they were only friends."

"Well things must have changed. They are living together at _The Hole_."

"They could just be roommates . You know how musicians are starting out. They barely have a nickel to rub together between them." His cousin glanced at the door to his office. "Did she tell you she was in love with him? Are you sure, quite sure?"

She hadn't needed to tell him. She had shown up with him wearing Max's clothes. The man had been with her the night before he left for Cabo. How hard she fought to keep the band together. He didn't need a diagram. "Believe me when I tell you I am."

"I'm sorry, Will. She was the first person you let close. I know you won't believe me when I say this but someone else will come along someday. You know the Garth Brook's song, _Unanswered Prayers_. Sometimes not getting the one you want is a blessing." Darcy didn't bother correcting Richard. He knew that wasn't true. Not for him. Yes, there would eventually be other women. He was realistic. He'd have to move on, but there would never be a woman who would speak to his soul the exact same way Elizabeth did. She was his muse. Awakened that part of him he had shut off from the world. He'd never love anyone the way he did her.

After Richard left, Darcy stood staring down at the city he loved. The hustle and bustle below mirrored the churning emotions she provoked within him. There'd be a time when it didn't hurt to breathe around her. There'd be a time when he didn't wake up wanting her. He'd be able to go to sleep without hearing her. There'd be a time when her songs no longer spoke to him. With all of his heart, he wished for that time to come. And, at the same time, he dreaded it.

Darcy returned to his desk, forwarded the video on his I-pad to the spot of her encore. Before she began _,_ she didn't address the crowd with playful banter. She looked hesitant, unsure, then she shut her eyes. She channeled everything into her pain and contrition. It was powerful.

 _Your voice still haunts me._

 _In every silence. It's so loud._

 _Torturing me. Nurturing me._

 _Making me miss you more than I can bear_

 _Wrecking my peace of mind_

 _Completely._

 _I sleep with your memory._

 _Night after night._

 _Warming me. Freezing me._

 _Making me wish I could rewind time_

 _Wrecking my sanity_

 _Completely._

 _I know I've disappointed you._

 _Wrecked you_

 _Made mistakes that cannot be unforgotten_

 _Wrecked me._

 _Said things that cannot be forgiven_

 _Wrecked you._

 _Destroyed all the beautiful moments we shared_

 _Wrecked me._

 _Made the future impossible._

 _Wrecked us._

 _I wish you could understand me._

 _Or see yourself through my eyes._

 _Then you'd know how I feel._

 _I'm wrecked._

 _I've complicated something that were simple._

 _I can't stop thinking of us_

 _I'm wrecked._

 _I didn't appreciate what you were to me._

 _I'm wrecked._

 _Didn't know how much_

 _how much you meant to me_

 _I wrecked myself_

 _when I hurt you._

 _Wrecked._

Why had Elizabeth concealed the song until now? It made no sense. She had to know the song was special. Had to know that it showcased her talent in a totally different way than the rest of her album. Hell, _Wrecked_ made _Stronger_ seem virtually irrelevant. Her abilities dwarfed his. The longing in her voice when she sang it twisted at his soul. Her tears had been genuine, heartfelt. The message was repentance.

Had she written it for Max? Had he somehow found out about the night they shared? Gotten angry? Was the song her apology to him? The idea, once he latched onto it, was so painful he had to lean against the table. Tears had sprung in his eyes. Damn, he was stronger than this!

Richard was right. He would forget her in time. He just needed to bury himself in work. There was so much to do, but looking at his desk, he did not possess the desire to do it. He knew he was being incredibly rude to the powerful men in his lobby, but he didn't know how he was going to make it through the endless day of meetings. Normally, he thrived on the challenge of running Darcy Records, but lately he'd felt crushed by the weight of it all. Utterly exhausted. Heartbroken.

The phone on his desk buzzed interrupted his musing. "Yes, Maggie."

"Ms. Rhodes is here."

This was another unexpected complication. One didn't have to know his secretary to catch the obvious thick disapproval in her voice as it came through his intercom. Ever since the day he'd sent Elizabeth away without seeing her, Maggie telegraphed her displeasure in subtle passive ways. Just like this—not telling him everything as she usually did.

"What does she want?"

"She has an _urgent_ update for you."

He could only imagine what Richard would think about this if he knew. "Give me a few minutes before you send her in."

"Mr. Kooker and Mr. Morris from Sony Music Entertainment are still here and have indicated that they cannot wait much longer."

"Reschedule them then!" he snapped, irritated that he had to tell her how to do her job. Then he tempered his voice, he didn't want to alienate her with his moodiness. "I apologize, Maggie. I want to meet with Ms. Rhodes. If they cannot wait, reschedule them."

"Very good." Her tone indicated his instructions were anything but.

*)*)*

Nancy Rhodes was a chameleon. Medium height, medium coloring and medium weight. Nondescript. Extremely efficient, she'd been gathering information for months about Elizabeth, and following her without detection for the last several weeks since _Stronger_ was released. It was not merely surveillance. She also served as Elizabeth's protection. While she did not look intimidating in the slightest, Nancy was a black belt in karate and had spent six years in Quantico working for the FBI. She was not a woman to take lightly. Since Elizabeth insisted on flaunting her safety by living in a bar in that part of the city without any real security, what other choice did he have but take matters into his own hands? The thought of someone hurting her was enough to make him crazy. If something were to happen to her -

Darcy shook off the feeling that thought provoked. He opened the drawer where he kept Nancy's reports. It was thick and already the binding was showing signs of wear. The first report had arrived the day after he found out about Peter. It contained general information about Elizabeth and her family. Things he already knew like the bond between her and her elder sister had been exceptionally close. There were things he hadn't known back then such as her being a nurse. An exceptional one from the reviews Nancy had included. Then, there were things that had outright shocked him. Elizabeth had quit her job and moved in with Jane when it was determined Jane's cancer was inoperable. The two sisters had spent the last six months of her life together. To know she'd unselfishly undertaken such a burden made his considerable admiration of her grow.

To be loved by Elizabeth, _truly loved_ , was a remarkable gift.

Elizabeth had been an average but popular student in high school and college. A member of various clubs, in the choir, a cheerleader, voted Most Friendly by her peers. She was a social butterfly. People gravitated to her. So many pictures of her surrounded by friends, always laughing.

After finding nothing significant about it in the original report, he'd asked Nancy to look into her love life. The request had surprised the detective, but she returned within days with the information he wanted. Flirtatious and effervescent, Darcy assumed Elizabeth would've left a wake of men in her past. Clearly, she was a favorite among the male sex. However, the report documented only a few casual boyfriends in her teens and early twenties.

Nothing remotely serious until her path collided with Dr. Peter Hancock.

Oh, the good doctor! He was the son of a prominent cardiologist, born into money and privilege. An attractive, well built, fair haired man, he'd never been married, had no children, and no criminal record. Not so much as a speeding ticket. Squeaky clean. Athletic. Financially secure. Not as secure as Darcy, but wealthy enough to comfortably provide for a wife and start a family.

Peter had asked Elizabeth to marry him, and had been accepted, at a New Year's Eve party where all of their friends and family were in attendance. It had taken Dr. Hancock exactly four months from their introduction. Their engagement picture showed a well-matched couple. Happily in love. Eager to wed.

It bothered Darcy as he examined the photo. Her smile was so brilliant as she cuddled against her fiancé. Peter was everything she claimed she wanted for herself. The perfect mate. Whatever had happened to break them up? Had Elizabeth called an end to things or had the doctor? Even after sending Nancy to Ohio twice for reconnaissance, Darcy still didn't have that answer. He had other troubling information. Peter wasn't dating anyone. He hadn't dated anyone since the two had broken up. It was as if he was simply waiting for her to return to him. 

Darcy dropped the pages of the report as if they burned his fingers. Well if he was waiting on her to return to him, Dr. Hancock would be sorely disappointed.

Rifling until he found the last report delivered a few days ago, he glared at the pages. Max had moved in with Elizabeth at _The Hole_. Darcy harbored no illusions as to what that meant and the knowledge was like a hot dagger in his gut. Even now, he was tempted to call the property managers back and withdraw his support. Offering to obligate himself financially had certainly paved the way for her to get her own place. At the time, he'd been anxious to have her live in a secure place away from her unsavory friends. Now, it appeared, he had paved the way for the couple's new home. Nancy's report today probably would include the fact Elizabeth signed a lease on one of the units she just viewed again. That was probably the urgent news.

And now, on Monday, he was going to have to face the lovebirds.

Maybe he _should_ leave early for vacation and let Paul fill in for him. Thinking about it now, he didn't really know where he was going to get the strength to stomach watching the two of them together. God, help him if Max gave him one of those antagonizing smiles of his! Punching the other man right in the face would go a long way to relieve him of these leeching feelings.

One thing he knew for certain was there was nothing, absolutely nothing, Elizabeth could do to make him change his mind about _The Hole_ _House_ going on her tour. Max would have to learn to deal with his disappointment just like he had. If what she shared with her bassist was strong enough to survive the separation and demands of her tour, then so be it. But he'd be damned if he'd make it easy for another man to succeed where he had failed.

"Was my video helpful, Mr. Darcy?" He glanced up at the question. Nancy had entered the office without him noticing and was sitting in front of him waiting patiently.

"Yes, it was." He said curtly, "You'll take it down today."

Nancy agreed easily, and then said, "I must say your Ms. Bennet is an extremely talented woman. I've never witnessed such a performance or such an audience's reaction." She looked at him with something akin to pity. "She seems to be a good, kind sort of woman."

Darcy did not agree. Elizabeth was exceptionally cruel to him. "Maggie indicated you have some urgent news you wanted to share?"

"Yes. As you've requested, I have completed all the background checks on _The Hole_ personnel." Nancy handed him her perfectly typed report and the supporting documents that went with it. "In light of what I've learned, you have the right to be concerned. Very concerned."

Darcy read through the report and flipped through each document becoming increasingly alarmed with each new fact. "Are these all certified copies? Are you certain of the dates?"

"I am." Noting the investigator's uneasy expression, he asked if there was anything more. "I'm afraid I cannot authenticate this in any way without speaking directly to Ms. Bennet, but you've prohibited that so I . . ."

"Does it have something to do with this?" He waved the pages of the report impatiently. His heart thundered in his chest. This could not be happening.

"Yes, sir. One of Jane Bennet's neighbors called me this morning. She was in the hospital during my first trip and visiting with family the last time I was in town. She just found my card. In light of the other discoveries I made, I felt I should come here and tell you what I'd learned in person. I am very concerned by what this neighbor said. It is consistent with my hypothesis."

"Tell me. Tell me everything."

After she finished, Darcy felt sick with fear. "Inform your father, I want an extra bodyguard hired for her until Bolton returns to the States. We can't wait for the release of her CD. I need the best he can find now—immediately. Until those arrangements can be made, I want you to continue protecting her yourself. Everywhere she goes. Promise me you'll keep her safe, Nancy."

"I will do my best, Mr. Darcy. But, it is difficult to do my job if I can't be as close to her as I would like." Darcy rubbed his lips. He had to see Elizabeth again. He had to demand she allow him to keep her safe. Nancy continued, "I'll call my father on my way back to _The Hole._ "

As she slipped from his office to carry out his instructions, Darcy pressed the button on his phone. "Maggie, cancel all of my appointments for the rest of the day. An emergency has come up that requires my attention."

"The men for Sony have rescheduled, but Mr. Carter and Mr. Kyle have been waiting for nearly an hour. Also, your 11 and 11:30 are still waiting - "

"I don't care! I said cancel all my appointments!" He didn't feel apologetic about his tone. He was terrified. When his secretary made to interrupt him again, he told her in frustration. He needed advice from someone he could trust. "Maggie, I think Elizabeth is in real trouble. Please. Please reschedule the appointments and get me Richard. I need his help."

Her tone changed drastically, "Of course, right away."

Darcy sat back in his chair. He didn't believe in coincidences. Memories of Elizabeth when he questioned her about Peter resurfaced. Her reactions were now seen in a totally different light. How had he missed it? Sweat broke out on his neck. Damn it! Why had she been so stubborn? Why had she never told him about her past? Why hadn't he pushed more? He felt blindsided by what he now suspected she had gone through. Did she even suspect how much danger she was in? How was he going to manage to keep her safe from harm?

Safe from those two psychopaths!

It felt like his absolute worst nightmare was coming true.


End file.
